Of needles and pins
by aryajaqen
Summary: He had been away for a long time, but returning was returning to her. He wondered if she would still be there, how much she had grown, if she remembered him, his lovely girl. First attempt at fanfiction, rated M for later chapters, please review and more chapters will follow. I own none of the characters, I only borrow them toplay a little.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

He noticed, his heart was beating faster, and he tried to will it to slow down. He was walking towards The House of Black and White, and he knew, he would find her there. The lovely girl. He had always come back to here, between assignments, but now he felt, he had something to come back to. His lovely girl.

He stopped before he entered and tried to shut every feeling out. Reminded himself, that he was A Faceless Man, and that he did not form bonds with others. It was a struggle he fought daily, since he had seen the girl for the first time, and she had awakened his curiosity.

He closed his eyes for a minute, and let his mind wander to the day, he had persuaded her to give him something to drink. How he had been amused by her anger and temper, and how he had somehow admired her courage and wanted to protect her. The lovely girl, posing s a boy, fighting so bravely to survive and protect herself. He had enjoyed her stubbornness and her fighting spirit.

Later, when she had freed him, he had found, that he was not dissatisfied with being in her debt. His little, lovely girl, who fought so proudly and had no one. Despite her apparent hardness, he saw right through her, he saw the hurt and the frustration in her eyes, but he also saw an unyielding willpower, and he experienced something long forgotten. His heart weakened and he wanted to protect the little, lovely girl. He did her bidding, as she gave him the first two names. The first, made his heart weaken for her innocence, as she wanted to punish the man, she had seen take such pleasure in hurting others. The second made his insides roar, thinking about her being in danger, and he felt something surge up inside him, as he protected her. The third. The third made him proud and sad all at once. Proud, that she was unyielding in her efforts – it would help her through life. And sad at the hardening within her. He knew, that she would not have let him "go kill himself," as she had put it, and he played along with her childish game – knowing he wanted nothing more, then to get her out. But the loss of innocence in her, had filled him with sadness, and he wished only to take her away, make her safe and watch her play carefree. His lovely girl.

Parting from her, had been the most difficult thing, he had ever done. It had been the only time, he had ever had trouble keeping his vows. He had watched others struggle, but never had that kind of struggle himself. Never felt the need to form bonds, never regretted not falling in love or having children, he was no one, a Faceless Man, and should not feel for anyone or anything. He should not feel the need to protect the girl, he should not feel sad for her, proud of her, protective of her, worried about her. He could kill for her three times, because that was the law of the God. He counted the numerous killings of guards, so she and her friends could flee, as one. Had convinced himself, that it was right to do so, that it had nothing to do with his own feelings. He followed them, to see her safe, and he knew, he had to go back and wait for a new assignment. He had a shimmer of hope, because she was skilled, that he could take her with him, keep her safe, teach her how to take care of herself. As he had to see his hope fade away, he had grasped for a last straw – the coin. He had made sure, she remembered the phrase "Valar morghulis" and saw him change, so she knew not to look for his face but for him, and he had wandered off, concentrating on each painful pounding off his heart remembering that he was no one.

He had struggled not to worry about the child, the lovely girl, and had taken on assignments, one after another, trying to force down the part in him, that was not _no one_. But she had named him, and when he slept he would hear her call out in fear, the name she had given him. He heard her call "Jaqen" in fear, in agony, in distress and he would wake up urging to run and protect her.

Finally she had come to the House of Black and White. He had been relieved, that she was safe. The first times he had returned to The House, she had called out his name, and run to him, not understanding why this was wrong. Then doing it in spite. Over time, she had learned, she had conformed. But only on the outside. She was a marvellous fighter for her age and size. She was fearless and bold. Although she struggled with her stubbornness, it was the same stubbornness that kept her training hour after hour ignoring pain and injuries, always picking herself up and bouncing back. At day he would train her. She would be an apprentice and he would be one of many seeing to her education. At night he would go to her room, and listen to her talking about her new life here. Sometimes he would tend to her wounds. He would bring back little trinkets or foreign fruits from his travels, and he would tuck her in, and wish her a good nights sleep. He had promised her, always to wear the face she knew,when he was with her. Despite her apparent maturity and her hardness, she had still been a child, and it had confused her to see him in different faces. She was a strong girl, and on the outside she needed no one. She had a shimmer of the same darkness inside of her, that he had inside of him. But when he looked at her, he could see, what no one else could. He could see her fear and her pure heart, he could see the child that was scared and sad and needed him. She would call him Jaqen, and Jaqen he would be until he closed the door behind him. All time not spent with her, he would struggle to again become no one.

He was trained in keeping an emotionless expression, and he did so well. No one could tell by looking at him, that the lovely girl was more to him, than any other little girl. But over time, others started to notice, that he came back more often then needed and stayed for longer, passing on assignments, training the girl. And he was sent away on a long assignment. Now he was back, standing in front of the white and black doors, wondering how she looked now, if she would remember him. His lovely girl.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Entering the temple area he made sure, that no one would be able to read in his face, that he was looking for the lovely girl. He wondered if she had managed to abide to the rules of her training, and had regained her eyesight. He remembered how she had struggled to become faceless,to give up her identity and her feelings, and how this had caused the punishment of blindness, and he knew all too well, that he was partly to blame. His special interest in the lovely girl had fuelled her stubbornness and her clinging to being Arya, even after she had accomplished her first assignments. And while he had tried to teach her, to let go of her identity and truly become a Faceless Man, he had nourished a secret hope, that the part of her, that made her a girl, (_his_ girl, something inside of him whispered), would never disappear.

As he walked through the black and white robed people, he constantly skimmed every visible part of the temple, and suddenly his heart skipped a beat. He would have recognized her everywhere, in every form. She had grown, she was taller, her hair was longer but she was still the_ lovely girl_. She was sitting at an outside table chopping herbs for the temple to use, one of the chores he remembered used to bore her immensely. He walked towards her and saw the muscles tense in her shoulders and her lower back. He smiled. She had yet to learn to disguise the smallest of her reactions, he could see, she knew someone was walking up to her. He stopped behind her and said: "A man has returned"

She stiffened and replied: "A girl has waited a long time for a man's arrival". He could see her hesitate and tried to keep calm, while he waited for her to turn around, so he could see her face. For the first time he had a glimpse of understanding, of why it had been so important to her, that he always came to her as Jaqen. At the same time the longing to see her face confused him.

As she jumped up and turned around, he smiled at her stubbornness and refusal to abide by her training. "Jaqen" she said, a little too loud, and took his hands. Inside of him, his heart raced, as he saw her and felt their hands touching. He had to fight to keep calm and not show his confusion. Why this reaction to the girl? He tilted his head back a little and looked down at her with half a smile. "A man sees that a girl has not yet learned all in her training". She let go of his hands and in the short moment, between two seconds, she had a look, as if she had been stabbed. Then she gave a half-hearted smile. "Well, a girl never has been one for conformity", she said.

He didn't quite understand the glimpse of hurt he had seen, and didn't know what had caused it. He knew however, that she had grown to be beautiful. Surprisingly he had to fight an urge to tell her so. It was this feeling of wanting to protect the child, he told himself.

"A man is happy to see, that a girl has regained her eyesight"

"Yeah, that was not too pleasant a punishment..."

They stood awkwardly for a moment, and then he gave a small bow and said:

"A man has just returned and should get settled in. Perhaps after he has talked to the guild, a girl would care for a dancing lesson, to show a man how far she has come with her training?"

Finally he could see a glimpse of a smile in her eyes again, and she replied: "A girl would like that".

He turned to leave, when he heard her call out the name, she had given him. "Jaqen". He turned his head, steadying his expressions. She took a step towards him, and lowered her voice: "have you…" He gave a crooked smile as she hesitated. He thought he saw that glimpse of pain again, but why? She smiled his crooked smile back at him, and he thought to himself, he must have been mistaken. "Have you had a good journey?"

"Ah, a man will tell a girl about it later and perhaps he has brought something back for his… for a girl". With that he turned away and started walking towards the inside of the temple. He steadied himself not to show his distress and confusion. He must have misread her, why would she have looked hurt. Misreading someone could be lethal for a Faceless Man, and he had not done so for years. In his mind, he shook his head. He had just been surprised the girl had changed so much, and relieved she had regained her sight. The latter was a good sign in regards to her training. It meant she had complied with the demands of the Faceless. That was it. That had to be it. He had just been surprised. He was no one, and the surprise had confused him for a while. That was all, he told himself, as he entered the inside of the temple, to talk to the members of the guild and to give sacrifice to the Many Faced God. The pounding of his heart had been relief, that she was safe and that her training seemed to turn out well. Relief because she was an apprentice. That was it, he told himself. His interest in her was because he was the first to recognize her abilities to become a Faceless Man. That was all.

He nodded to other Faceless Men in the temple, as he walked past the many pictures of faces of the god, towards the room where the guild would meet to hear, how he had met the demands of his assignment.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Arya turned back to the mind-numbing task of chopping herbs. She worked mechanically as her hands knew what to do, having spent hours over the past years doing this chore. But on the inside everything twirled around in her head. He was back. He would come and dance with her and her sword. She had held his hand, and she felt the peace that came with feeling safe in his proximity. Not that she needed it, she didn't need anything… but it was nice, and why shouldn't she have something nice.

He had been gone for a long time, and she had trained hard to become better. She had had several assignments and had given the gift of death, without the hesitation, she had felt the first time. Now, she felt nothing when she performed her duties, she could control the rage, when she killed, and the hurt that had once been just underneath the rage, was like a faint memory. But in her chamber, at night, she would still say her prayer, chanting the names Arya wanted dead. When hiding in her sleeping cell at night she would still be Arya, and in the dark, before going to sleep, she would whisper a "goodnight Jaqen". On days when she was hurting from labour or fighting, when she could smell blood on her skin even after bathing, she would quietly pretend he was there to listen to her stories and to comfort her. As the months went by, the secret longing for his return seemed to grow in the shadow of her mind.

Every time she had made progress, had given the gift or had rid herself of another little pice of her being as Arya, she had wanted to tell him. Wanted him to tilt his head backwards a little and look down on her with that crooked smile that for her was safety, but at the same time could drive her mad for his smugness and calmness, his indifference.

When she was walking around Braavos, blinded and learning how to become No One, she had noticed the shift for the first time. The punishment of blindness had been frightening, but it had also annoyed her to no end. She had learned, that there was a point to the punishment, that it made her a better assassin, and that it sharpened her senses. But she had also noticed the shift in her thoughts. While it was important to become the best assassin, so she could strike down on her enemies with a vengeance, that aspect sort of shrunk in importance. Just as the Kindly Man wanted. What he didn't know, what no one could ever know was, that something else took its place: A longing for pleasing Jaqen. At first she had wanted him to be proud of her, when he came back, she wanted him to give her that annoying smirk and call her a lovely girl. Oh it was still important to her, to kill the people of her evening prayer, and it was still hard for her not to set the darkness, she felt inside of her, free, when she was fighting or killing. But over the past months, she had also wanted Jaqen to come back and see her as his equal. She trained harder and fiercer than ever, and it showed in her control during the fights. And now; now he had come back to Braavos, to the temple and to her.

She finished her chore, and had nothing else to do for the day. She went to the secret hiding place and took out Needle. She had kept it hidden, but today she would practice the dance with Jaqen, and she would fight him with Needle. She kept Needle rolled up in a scarf, and walked to the pool between the statues, sat down and waited for him.

Jaqen looked around the table, and summarized how he had managed the task of the gift, he had been assigned. Other assignments were discussed, some were taken on and others were dismissed. Everything seemed normal. He had been greeted the same way as always. No one had commented on his long absence but he could see the interest the difficulty of his assignment held to the others. They seemed to talk forever, before he could finally stand up and head for his sleeping cell. One of the others walked up beside him, and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"It was good work and a difficult task a man managed"

Jaqen nodded his head as the other man continued:

"Tonight we should all go into town, enjoy a good meal, have some of the best wine we can find and pay a visit to the courtesans of Braavos. You must have learned the ugly truth on your long journey, that there are no courtesans that can be compared to the ones of Braavos"

Jaqen smiled. This was true, and they were famed in all of the cities known to man.

"A man will gladly share an evening with his fellow Faceless Men in the company of good wine and good women. It has been a long journey, and a man needs to rest and enjoy himself". They split up and Jaqen went to his sleeping cell to get ready for the dance with Arya. Somehow that sounded more intriguing than food, good wine or even a visit to the famed courtesans of Braavos.

He found her sitting between the statues at the pool. She didn't seem to have brought a sword, all though she had something sword-like wrapped in some sort of scarf. He willed his feet to keep a slow pace as he walked towards her. She had already seen him and stood up. They nodded to each other and headed out of the House of Black and White and around it, to the field where they had danced the sword dance before.

They walked close beside each other, and when they arrived at the field he looked down on her with the crocked smile, she had hoped for.

"A lovely girl has grown. A man is happy to see her again and anxious to see how far she has gotten with her training"

"A girl is glad to see a man return, and she will show him, how far she has come" she replied. She stuck her hand inside the scarf and took out a thin, small sword. He had seen it before… it belonged to Arya, before everything. She had not gotten rid of all her belongings, like she should. He looked at her, not hiding his surprise.

"A girl has chosen to keep something, once important to the girl Arya" he stated, his heart beating a little harder. This meant, inside of her there was still something of the lovely girl, no matter how far she had gotten with her training, while he had been gone.

"I see no reason to part with it, it was a gift and has great value to me" she said, foregoing the alienating use of talking about herself in the third person.

"Well then, let us see what a girl can do with her Needle"

Aria smiled, she had a bubbly feeling of joy inside of her. Not only did he remember her sword, he also remembered its name. For some reason it pleased her, that he remembered this detail.

They started circling each other, swords drawn. He started the dance cautiously, holding back to see, how far he could push her, and he soon found out just how skilled she had become. They fought for a long time, before he ended the dance, still her superior in this discipline. He twirled his sword, flinging Needle out of her hand and catching her arms. Having let go of his own sword and swiftly taken a knife, he pressed her against him holding her arms on her back with one hand, and the knife to her throat with the other. She panted and looked up at him with such annoyance, he couldn't hide a grin.

"A man can see a girl is very skilled and still very stubborn" he laughed.

She squirmed angrily and instinctively he tightened his grip, holding her even closer. He could feel her breath on his face, and her expression changed into something he hadn't seen in her before. He couldn't quite place it; he couldn't quite place his own reaction. He felt a longing to be closer to her and started tilting his face down towards her. His lovely girl.

Quickly he came to his senses and let go of her. He composed himself within a second, and smiled at her: "It was a good fight, a man is impressed"

He saw a shimmer of questioning confusion in her eyes before she laughed and promised him, that the next time, she would stick him with the pointy end of her Needle.

They walked back slowly, talking about the time that had passed and enjoying each other's company. They both took great care not to think of the moment when nothing had happened after the sword dance.

Before they parted for their rooms, she asked him, if he would be coming to the dining room, or if he was too tired after the journey.

"A man is never too tired for good food or good company, but tonight he will be doing that with the Faceless Men in the fine city of Braavos" he said and smiled at her. He stopped in the middle of a small, polite bow. Something had changed in her attitude. She was suddenly unreadable to him.

Arya felt frozen. She knew what it meant when the Faceless Men, or any other men for that sake, enjoyed a night of food and other things in Braavos. It meant courtesans. She felt a pang of pain, without knowing exactly why. It felt almost like jealousy. She quickly smiled at him, wished him fun and turned around to flee to her sleeping cell. Her eyes burning, and something similar to rage stirring up inside of her.

Jaqen looked at her leaving, not knowing what exactly had happened, but with a feeling of heaviness weighing him down.


	4. Chapter 4

He sat at the table surrounded by the others. The food was good and plenty and the wine was excellent. The women around them were as could be expected in Braavos, beautiful, intelligent, and gifted. The mood amongst the Faceless Men who had gathered here tonight was good and spirited. Everybody enjoyed themselves and relaxed as far as a Faceless Man could ever relax. Over and over Jaqen found his mind drifting back to earlier today. Why could he not enjoy the good food and the two women who obviously offered their services to him? Every time he relaxed and joined in on the relaxed atmosphere, he saw the lovely girl in his mind. She was no longer a little girl; she had grown to become beautiful. He blinked and saw the frozen look she had had, when she heard, he was coming here tonight. He lifted his hand absent minded and touched his face, where he had felt her breath. He looked at his hands, and again he felt the sensation, he had felt, when she had taken his hands in hers. This was not good. It was something other than wanting a woman to take to bed. Visiting courtesans was accepted amongst the Faceless Men, it was considered natural. There were both female and male courtesans present tonight, both for the male and for the few female Faceless Men that had come. They had even taken a few apprentices along. Young men, who were almost ready, and were tested to see, if they would drink too much and forget to always have their senses tuned in on their surroundings. One of them clearly was not ready to become a Faceless Man. He had an arm around a courtesan and had been drinking heavily. He was too loud and too simple in his behaviour. The Faceless Men exchanged looks. He would have a hard awakening tomorrow; probably blinded.

Jaqen turned his attention to the courtesan on his right; she had a pleasant voice and was beautiful and seductive. He let his hand slide up her arm while he smiled at her, but suddenly the young apprentice called out for his attention.

"I hear you danced with that girl today, Arya the Cat… or whatever. She is a feisty one. Savage in her fighting. I wouldn't mind a little dance with her myself though" he smiled knowingly to Jaqen.

Jaqen felt something dark surge up inside of him, and had to use every bit of self-control he had in him, not to show his rage. He reminded himself, that he was not to hurt the apprentices.

Before he could answer, another of the young men chimed in.

"She is a fine one. Quite a temper. I hear she shows her claws, when someone tries to get their way with her. However I must wonder, if it might not be worth the fight"

The two young men grinned stupidly at each other, before the first continued:

"You just know she is going to be wild and savage in bed as well as.."

Jaqen stood up, a little too abruptly. He gave the young men a cold, restrained smile:

"The girl is a most accomplished assassin, and a man would warn the two boys to talk about their fellow apprentice with more respect. You clearly have a lot to learn yet". He wanted to hurt them, but quickly bowed to the women at his sides:

"If you will excuse a man, he has had rather a lot of wine and must leave you for a short time". Before walking outside he caught the eye of The Friendly Man, who nodded and looked at him both knowingly and with something, which looked unmistakably like concern.

Once outside he disappeared from the gathering. No one noticed him, as he made his way back to the House of Black and White. The others would be busy with their courtesans. He shook his head and tried to clear his mind. He would normally enjoy such an evening, but tonight his head was filled with pictures of the lovely girl. His lovely girl. He wanted to see her, hold her… He took a deep breath and reminded himself, that he was no one, he didn't form bonds with others. The lovely girl didn't mean more to him than any other apprentice - except for the two young men, who for all he cared could meet a long and painful death. He forced out a little grin. Perhaps he had had a little too much wine; he had travelled far and would regain his control as soon as he got some rest.

Arya was pacing up and down her sleeping cell. She had not been able to fall asleep. She had taken Needle out and angrily fenced an invisible component. She was angry and disappointed. No, she corrected her own thoughts, she was nothing. She didn't care what Jaqen did. He had just returned, and was obviously in a hurry to lie with courtesans! Well, what did she care? He could have his courtesans. She felt the stinging of disappointment in her eyes again and started fencing the air. With every stab she saw pictures of him kissing another of the beautiful courtesans, she had seen in Braavos. She saw him undress them, touch them, and she fought the air more angrily than ever. She had waited patiently… well sort of patiently, for his return. He had fought with her, and then left her again. She knew she was irrational. He hadn't really left, he had just gone out for the night, but somewhere inside of her the old feeling stirred. The memory of her as a little girl asking him to please not leave, after he had given her the coin. But he had left. When she had not known what to do or where to go, she had come to find him, relying on him, on his help, and he had been there. But he always left. She knew, this was his duty, to leave for assignments, and although she had missed him a lot for this last long assignment, she understood their shared duty to the guild. But no way was it his damn duty to hurry down to the courtesans! She threw Needle angrily through the room. The tip of it somehow cut her other hand on its way through the air, and she sat down on the floor crying, holding her hand as the blood dripped down. It didn't even hurt much, she shouldn't be crying. Why hadn't Jaqen kissed her earlier today? She was sure he almost had. Why did she even want him to? She sobbed quietly, and suddenly she heard a quick knock on the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Jaqen had returned to his sleeping cell. He sat on the chair and poured himself a cup of water. He looked around the room, and his eye caught the package he had placed on the table before heading out earlier. The valurniberries he had brought back for the lovely girl! He opened the package to see if they had ripened. He had plucked them for her, while they were still grey and negligible, and packed them carefully in their own leafs. They had ripened and were now bright red and glasslike. He knew she would enjoy them, as he had when he first tasted them. Their skin was thin, almost like a sugar glazing and crunched when you bit into them, their flesh soft and their juice like nothing he had ever tasted. He should bring them to her, now when they were at their best. Of course they would still be good tomorrow, but he _had_ promised them to her earlier today. Perhaps she was still awake. He carefully packed them up, and headed for her room.

Outside of her door he stopped to listen, to hear if she was still awake. His heart stopped. He heard something like sobbing from her room. He quickly knocked and opened the door, fearing she would be in trouble.

He stood still for just a second to take in the sight. She was sitting on the floor in a white cotton nightgown. Her hair was tousled, her eyes red with big tears filling them. She was breathtakingly beautiful. He saw her holding her hand, blood dripping slowly from a wound. Needle on the floor. She had cut herself. He rushed over to her without thinking, shoving the door shut behind him, letting her package slip out of his hands and dropping to the floor in front of her, cradling her in his arms for comfort.

"A girl has hurt her hand" he breathed, holding her to him with one arm, entwining the other hand in her hair and leaning his head down, burying his face in her hair and her smell. Relieved that she was not in any real trouble.

"It is not that bad and I am not a little girl anymore" she said, anger and spite clear in her voice as she started to pull back. He held her closer and sighed, her temper and stubbornness told him, her hand was not that hurt. She could hear him smile as he replied:

"Believe me, I know the lovely girl is not at little girl anymore."

Without thinking he kissed her hair, leaned back a little and took her face between his hands, brushing the tears of her cheeks with his thumbs. Her breath stopped in her chest, and she looked him in the eyes. He looked down on her with that crooked smile, she had longed to see in his long absence, but she was still angry. And confused. She felt his fingers brushing her tears away burning on her skin, and her breath came back. His face was so close; she could smell sweet wine on his breath. His fingers stopped and she could sense something in him shift. He looked at her with something else in his eyes.

Jaqen felt as if he saw himself from the outside. He felt a yearning to be closer to her, not to let go of her. His eyes settled on her lips, and he noticed her holding back her breath. As she suddenly exhaled, he bowed his head down and kissed her. Softly, sweet and almost painful in its lightness. His mind was numb, there was only a feeling of longing, he had long forgotten. He broke the kiss, and tried to regain his composure. He didn't know, didn't want to understand, why he had kissed her. Not knowing what else to do or say, he reached for her hurt hand.

"A man will look at the wound"

Aryas head was light as air, the rage gone and her lips burned more from the lack of contact than from the kiss. She looked confused at her hand and shook it free.

"It's nothing, I already told you" She replied, annoyed that she was out of breath, and dried her hand off in her night gown, leaving red stains on the fabric.

"Perhaps a man should tend to it, so it doesn't get infected"

She held her hand up, so he could see, there was hardly anything to tend to.

"All better, see!" she replied. Why was he here? Did he come straight from the courtesans bed to her room and kissed her? She felt anger build up inside of her again. He hadn't kissed her passionately; he had kissed her like a child! He had probably kissed the courtesan like a man would kiss a woman.

Confused he saw anger in her eyes.

"Why are you back in the temple? I thought you would be in the courtesans' house until morning" She could have bit her own tongue of, and started to get up feeling colour burning her cheeks. He held her hand tighter, so she couldn't get up and smiled that annoying smile, looking as if he understood something she did not.

"Ah, but a man didn't feel like the company he was offered, he had a promise to attend to, to the lovely girl." He didn't really know why he didn't want her to stand up. He just wanted to keep the closeness to her, so he held her hand with a firm grip, twisted around and with his other hand took the package he had dropped, and held it between them.

"A man had promised the girl a gift from the faraway lands" he smiled, relieved to see her smile back.

She felt almost overwhelmed with joy. He had left the courtesans house, he would rather be here with her. She wanted to stay cool and coy but she broke out in a smile nonetheless. She took the package and opened it.

"They are called valurniberries, and they are very rare. A man picked them for his lovely girl to try". He didn't notice the slip of his tongue, but she did and rejoiced. He had called her _his_ lovely girl, not _a_ lovely girl! She took one of the berries and bit down on it carefully. The crisp crunching of the skin and the explosion of juice and taste surprised her, and she gave an involuntary shriek and laughed. Jaqen laughed more at her than with her, and they both felt free and happy.

"These are wonderful" she said, trying to eat the berry while talking and laughing. "You should try one!"

"A man has tried them, these he brought back for the lovely girl"

"Have some" she said with a forced stern expression, that did nothing to hide her joy. She picked up another berry and held it to his lips. The air suddenly filled with tension similar to the seconds between thunder and lightning.

Jaqen knew, he should break the tension, stand up and walk back to his room. Her hand was frozen in time, holding the red berry to his lips. Her own lips coloured red and shiny from the berry. He felt himself open his mouth and bite down on it, trying to suck up the juice that poured out and down her hand. Instinctively she tilted her wrist upwards and he kissed the juice from the valurniberry off her hand and felt her pulse beating under his lips. In a haze he saw her eyes fill with an echo of his own longing, and watched his hand pick up another valurniberry and hold to her lips. She bit down on it, just breaking the skin, and he leaned forward to catch the other half in his mouth. Her lips opened for him and he slid his tongue inside, tasting the mixture of the sweet berry and her. A voice in the back of his mind reminded him, he should pull back now, and he was going to, in just a second, just another second of holding on to her, to his lovely girl. Then he lost every control he had over himself.

He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, held her to him as if he would drown if he let go. Trailed kisses down her neck and heard her moaning. He didn't remember standing up, but found himself carrying her to the bed, laying her down without breaking the trail of kisses. He felt her hands in his hair, as he slid her nightgown down her shoulders and trailed kisses to her breasts. Still in a haze, driven by a longing he had never felt before, a yearning to which he was powerless, he trailed his tongue around her nipple and felt as if he would go mad with need, as he heard her moan "Jaqen" and arch up towards him. He closed his lips around one nipple and caressed her other breast with his hand. He slid his hand down her body, and she felt it as a trail of fire. His hand travelled further down her leg and upwards shoving the nightgown up so it gathered around her waist. Frantically he placed himself between her thighs, feeling her hands shoving his clothes aside, fearing her touch would drive him to the brink of insanity. His hand found her wetness and she moaned his name again, as he found her knot of pleasure. He opened his eyes and looked at her face, her body writhing in pleasure beneath him, drops of sweat shimmering on her skin, her lips parted slightly as she panted in pleasure, and he pressed his lips to her mouth, harder and more demanding. She met him and he swallowed her moans, letting his tongue explore her mouth. For the fraction of a second, the doubt awoke inside of him, but as he started to pull back, he felt her hand close around his member and he lost himself moaning into her kiss, not able to form any doubts or thoughts other than a chanting thought repeating the words "my lovely girl" in his mind.

Just before entering her, frantically making her his, he felt a barrier and halted. He looked down at her in surprise. She had not given herself to anyone yet. His heart felt as if it swelled and could not possibly contain the storm of emotions, as he saw her expression of dissatisfaction as he stopped every movement. She opened her eyes and looked at him so annoyed, he couldn't help but smile at her. He knew every female who trained to be a Faceless Man learned to use all weapons available to her. Including seduction. He had tried not to think about it, but had still assumed she had used it in her assignments. He had been mistaken. He felt a possessiveness fill him, as he kissed her tenderly and whispered "_my_ lovely girl!" Her annoyance with the interruption vanished, as she saw exactly the expression in his eyes, which she now recognized as the one she had longed for without having known it. He felt her tense as he slowly entered her, and gave her time to adjust, finding a strength to control himself he didn't know, he had. Slowly he started moving within her, and she relaxed and moved to meet every thrust. She moaned his name again and clung to him, holding his face between her hands, her lips just touching his, her eyes locking with his eyes, whispering his name over and over, and he lost himself in her, more frantically than he had ever surrendered to anyone. As he felt her cramp around him, he let go of his last restraint and collapsed on top of her, hearing himself moan her name "Arya".


	6. Chapter 6

He lay on his back looking up at the ceiling in her room. Her head rested on his chest and he felt complete. He felt happy. He turned his head a little so he could kiss her head, and she looked up at him and smiled. He could feel reality creeping in on him. He shouldn't feel. He was not Jaqen, he was no one. But he wanted to stay this way, just for a little while longer. With his lovely girl. It was only now, when he saw the hint of insecurity she tried to hide, her ruffled hair, glazy eyes and red cheeks smiling at him, that he remembered how inexperienced she was. It was easy to forget, because she had experienced so many other hardships in her life. So much violence, so much suffering. His heart bled for her, and he cradled her to him, and asked in a voice, that surprised himself for its softness: "Are you all right? Did I hurt you?" She smiled contempt and gave him a quick kiss. "I am good. Happy" She laid her head back on his chest and draped her arm over him. He caressed her back, while reality slowly gained in on him.

This was not good. It felt good, too good. He had managed to become no one many years ago, and she had made him someone. He had let her make him someone. He could not be a Faceless Man and Jaqen at the same time. And he could not stop being a Faceless Man. He felt an empty void surging through his chest. He held her closer, and it hurt even more, as she snuggled into his embrace. His lovely girl. Had he been lost from the first time he saw her? His feelings had been different, she had been younger. Now his feelings for her had changed, but there had definitely been feelings from the beginning. First curiosity, then intrigue and protectiveness. Pride and care. And now? Since he walked back in to the House of Black and White he had not had control over his emotions. Had he not been no one, had he been Jaqen who had a soul, he would think she was…

He gently sat up, and started to get out of bed. He should not stay here. He should go back to his own sleeping cell, and regain control over himself.

Arya had not felt so at peace since she was a child at Winterfell. She was somewhat confused though. It was not, that she was not used to having feelings, she had never managed to become no one, as The Kindly Man tried to teach her. She loved her family with all her heart and she knew she cared for Jaqen. But her feelings for him were different. She decided, it was a good confused she felt, and that she was too tired to think about it. Right now, laying here in his arms, she didn't want to ever leave or think about anything again. She felt him shift under her as he got out of bed.

"Are you leaving?" He heard her ask in a doubtful voice. He turned to look at her, and could hardly breathe at the sight of her. He could smell her on his skin and knew, he would be able to smell him on hers. He took a deep breath.

"A man must return to his own chamber, he should not have let this happen. A girl should get some rest" he said, and gave her a half-hearted smile.

"A man! A girl!" She jumped out of bed and stood in front of him, taking the sheet with her, holding it up in front of her, covering her body up. He saw her eyes sparking in anger with him. "Is that it? Was this a replacement for your courtesan? I thought you.. I thought…Was it not.. Was I not..." she looked like a wounded animal. Tears welled up in her eyes for a short moment, until she willed them back. "Never mind" she continued "I was mistaken. A man should go back to his own room, a girl is tired". She lay down on the bed, and turned her back at him. His lovely girl. He had hurt her. He sat on the bed beside her, and put a hand on her shoulder. In one swift movement she sat up and squeezed his throat. "Don't touch me!" she hissed. He loosened her grip and tried to caress her cheek. She shoved his hand away, and lay down again, back turned to him.

"My lovely girl is mistaken. A man is sorry to have hurt her"

"I am not hurt" she said, spite filling her voice "you could never hurt me, you are no one to me".

He sat down beside her again, feeling the void of emptiness again. He put his hand on her shoulder once again; wanting the void to go away, even if it was just for a moment. She did not stir. "I told you not to touch me. And I am not yours to call my lovely girl". She wished he would leave before she was unable to hold back the tears. Death, revenge, fighting she could deal with, but this…

Then she heard him whisper: "Arya" and she turned around, flung her arms around his waist and cried.

He slipped down next to her and whispered: "Arya, my lovely girl, you misunderstand. It was wonderful, you are wonderful. I should leave, not because I want to, but because I don't want to".

She sniffed and looked at him again: "But we are not the only ones who have had sex. I know other Faceless have as well"

He nodded: "Yes, it is something that is bound to happen now and again, but I doubt, they have made each other feel, the way you make me feel. A man finds it very difficult to stay no one when that is who he should be"

She kissed him, and he slipped his arms around her. "You are Jaqen to me, you always have been"

He kissed her back, a long and tender kiss. Entwined his hands in her hair on each side of her head and rested his forehead against hers. He smiled as he said "I know, my stubborn girl, I know". He lay on his back cradling her tight all night.


	7. Chapter 7

Arya had woken up happy, in his arms. Slowly she had entwined herself from him, and lifted herself up on one elbow, to look at him while he was sleeping. He looked relaxed and peaceful. He didn't exactly snore, it was more like he purred in a growly bear-like way; she giggled in a way, she would have expected from Sansa. She looked at his handsome face, the line of his jaw, his eyelids fluttering in his sleep, his mouth… she felt warm and her heart started beating faster at the thought of what he had done with his mouth last night. She might be in love with him, she thought, as she reached out and let her fingers slide down the streak of white in his hair. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Good morning" he said, reaching an arm around her to pull her in for a kiss. She complied happily, grinning against his mouth.

He pulled back a little: "You are in a good mood this morning, my lovely girl. I trust you have slept well?" She kissed him before answering: "Very well, my snoring man" He looked at her in surprise, and laughed out loud, then he kissed her longer and deeper. She rolled them over and straddled him, deepening the kiss. He didn't know this side of her, but she seemed to be as straightforward and spontaneous in her affection, as she had been in her rage and vengeance, before her training. He let his hands slide up her legs and cupped her buttocks. He had never wanted a woman as much as he wanted her. His hands started pushing her hips back and forth and he moaned in pleasure at the contact. He wanted to take it slow, to make sure it was good and right for her. He knew, he was a good lover, but his needs spiralled more and more out of his control for every touch of her hand and every kiss from her mouth, every warm and moist trail of her tongue, down his neck and chest.

She smiled, at his reactions to her touch. Just because she had never followed through on it, it didn't mean she had not been instructed on how to please men. She had just never wanted to until now. Now she didn't want to stop. She wanted to touch every part of him, taste him, and feel him. She had a feeling of something urgent, as she kissed her way down his body, trailed wet circles on his skin with the tip of her tongue. She heard his breathing getting faster and felt warmth spread between her legs, for every moan he breathed. She heard a sharp intake of breath as she closed her mouth around his shaft and wondered for a moment, if she did it wrong. Then she felt his hands in her hair urging her on, and moved her head up and down, adjusting to the involuntary thrusts of his hips, letting her tongue circle the top. Just as his breathing became shallow, he pulled her up, flushed against his body and kissed her. He tried to roll them around, but she pushed him down on his back, straddled him again, and lowered herself onto him, half expecting the short stab of pain from the night before to return, but it stayed absent. He growled and placed his hands on her hips again, pushing her up and down, back and forth, faster and faster, and she panted and gasped with pleasure. He sat up and adjusted her, hands still on her hips, so her sensitive knot brushed against him, every time she grinded herself against him, and she let her head fall back in pleasure. He bent his head forwards and let his tongue play around the nipples of her perfect breasts, bouncing in front of him. He cached one between his teeth, and bit down on it a little harder, still letting his tongue play with it, which earned him a moaning of his name. She bowed her head forward and sped up the movements. He grinded his teeth, to hold back, to hold out for her, until she crushed her mouth down on his, moaning a wet, open kiss into his mouth, her inner walls clasping around him in climax and he flung his arms around her slim body, releasing himself, pulsating inside of her.

As they came down, still panting, she rested her damp forehead on his and smiled. He pushed her a little back and trailed his tongue along her collarbone, up her neck, tasting salt on her skin. He grinned: "A girl has hidden qualities, she has kept secret". She bit his lip and replied: "A man can only begin to imagine". He kissed her lightly and rolled them over. They stayed in bed for a few more minutes, before he kissed her and got up.

"Others will wonder, if I don't show myself soon, participating in training"

"I know. If you leave first, I will wait a few minutes before coming down for breakfast" She already felt cold, without his body against hers. He nodded, got dressed and changed his face, before leaving her room.

Over the next days, they went about life at the House of Black and White, as usual. With the exception of stolen glances. When they passed each other in passages, where he knew they were unseen, he would cup her cheek in his hand, and sometimes kiss her tenderly. Only one time, did he lose control, after watching her in a training-swordfight where she had fallen down and hit her head on the ground. It had taken all of his restraint, first not to run to her, but to keep his face mildly uninterested, and secondly not to challenge the man she had fought to a fight of his own. Instead he had watched calmly, as others tended to her and made sure, she was not seriously hurt. As soon as he was sure, she was all right, he turned around and strolled away, a picture of calmness. As he met her in a deserted passage half an hour later, his resolve crumbled as soon as he touched her. He kissed her so hard, her lips hurt and pushed her against the wall roaming his hands over her body, squeezing one of her breasts so she moaned both in pleasure, astonishment and pain. This made him stop immediately and draw back. "I am sorry" he said, holding his hand against her cheek, trailing his thumb over her swollen lips. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. Suddenly he let go and walked away, leaving her confused as to what had just happened.

He fought to become no one every minute, he was away from her. He made sure, not to use the face of Jaqen unless he was with her, to keep others from suspecting that he had become someone. He had not returned to her sleeping cell, but it had not been easy to stay away. He had regained some level of control, until he had seen her get hurt and had passed her, not completely by chance, in the passage. He forced the thoughts out of his mind, as he hurried not to be late to the meeting of the guild. New assignments were to be discussed.

The beginning of the meeting went well, and he was happy not to receive an assignment; after all, his last one had lasted for a very long time, and had brought in the highest fee to date. Towards the end of the meeting, easier assignments came up, fit for the apprentices. The Kindly Man looked straight at him, as he stated, that the young man he would have sent out on the assignment was still being punished with blindness, he would send the girl. Jaqen didn't flinch a muscle, but kept his expression calm, while his insides froze. It was not a dangerous assignment, he told himself, she could easily do it.

The meeting ended, and The Kindly Man caught up with him as he passed the pool. "I know, you have a special interest in the girl" he said "which is understandable since you were the one to bring her here, and have trained with her. As I recall she saved your life, at your first encounter"

"I paid back the god with three lives" Jaqen answered "my debt was cleared"

"Good" The Kindly Man answered and walked away.

That night Jaqen found himself outside of her room, knocking and waiting for her to invite him in. She opened the door, looking as beautiful as ever, and stepped aside. He entered her room and they stood in front of each other for a while, until she pointed at him.

"Your face" she said. He lifted his hand to his face and felt the crooked nose, turned around and quickly changed back to Jaqen. He leaned against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her with a smirk. She sighed; frustrated that he was so unreadable to her.

"Tomorrow you will get a new assignment." His face was still indefinite. She was glad to get a new assignment, she had so much frustration built up, she was looking forward to the hunt.

"Will you be relieved to see me go?"

He lifted an eyebrow: "No"

"Then what Jaqen? You are really not helping me figure this out. You must have done this before, but it is a first for me". She looked at him angrily. "And stop looking at me with that smug smile. Give me something. Say something".

He was quiet for a while, and she turned around. "A girl should get some rest if she is to leave tomorrow" she said, and started to get out her nightgown.

"The day I came back" he said, and she turned around to look at him, "you started asking me something, and then you changed your mind, and asked me, if I had had a good journey. What did you want to ask?"

Had he wondered about this since he came back? She avoided looking at him, as she answered: "I wanted to know, if you had missed me"

His expression still didn't change: "I had." He was still numb on the inside, the only alternative to the fear he had felt when he heard her name being mentioned for the assignment. "I was anxious to get back, and I was afraid"

Her head snapped up. "Afraid? You are never afraid!" This was one of her strongest beliefs. Nothing scared Jaqen, he was always calm.

He smiled sadly at her: "I was afraid, you wouldn't remember me"

She felt something not warrior-like inside of her, some instinct that took over her actions, as she watched herself walk up to him and cup his strong face in her small hand, in a gesture he used when he was alone with her: "I was afraid you wouldn't come back after all that time" she answered "but I would have remembered you even after the Many Faced God had given me death."

He closed his eyes for a moment, and she felt him tremble. "Please come back safe from the assignment" he whispered.

"I promise" she said and stood on her toes to reach up and kiss him.

That night he stayed with her, burying himself in her embrace, making slow and lingering love to her, holding her in his arms as they drifted into sleep at the wake of dawn.


	8. Chapter 8

She had been gone for two months, and every day he had struggled not to think about her. He had concentrated on training apprentices, the blind apprentice having been given his eyesight back, after he had learned the error of his ways, Jaqen trained with him daily, teaching him the dance. He was good, but in comparison to the lovely girl, this boy would never measure up. She had a natural elegance in her fighting, a flexibility and speed that made her lethal. The first month of her absence had been the worst. Then he had received news, that she had fulfilled her assignment and was heading back. He used the time until her return to regain some of the self-control, he had let slip. She should arrive within the next few days.

Having tended to the sick in the temple, Jaqen walked into town, strolling around the market, listening to people talking, learning news and secrets. He was wearing the face of an older man, clearly marked by the weather and years of labouring outside. He stopped in front of a stall with jewellery, contemplating buying a necklace for the lovely girl. He noticed someone stopping beside him, and out of the corner of his eye he saw long, golden hair and a bright coloured dress, Braavosi-style.

"A girl has returned", he heard her say. He flipped the necklace in his hand over to get a better look at it, and replied calmly, with his pounding heart hidden: "A man is glad to see her return". She reached out for a pair of earrings and their hands brushed briefly, sending a flash of electricity through his body. He let go of the necklace, turned around and walked on. In hiding he saw her make a bid for the earrings, then letting them go with a disappointed look, and turn to walk back to the House of Black and White. He forced himself to walk around for some time before heading back.

Arya finished reporting back to The Kindly Man. The job had not been difficult. She had bumped into one of the guards in front of the merchant's house; the target, who was threatening the balance of power in his town. She had flirted seductively with the guard, who had helped her get employed at the merchants house, where she after a week managed to slip some of _the strangler_, the poison of choice for the Faceless Men, into the mercant's beer. Within two days, his heart gave out without anyone wondering, and she had slipped away two days later. Travelling back and forth had been eventless.

The Kindly Man stood up, pleased at her quick and successful accomplishment of the assassination. They walked together to the pool and stood silent for a while. The kindly man put his hand on her shoulder. "The girl has come a long way" he said "she has learned to control her temper. Now she should concentrate on accomplishing letting go of Arya… if she truly wants to be a Faceless Man". He walked away and left Arya wondering, what he had meant, and what he knew. Was she really that transparent? She sat down on her knees and let her fingers glide through the water of the pool. It didn't really matter she thought, swallowing a lump of disappointment. She had found him in Braavos, but he had not seemed the least happy to see her. He had not even given her that smug smile of his. She stood up and walked to her sleeping cell. She changed her clothes and her face, and suddenly something caught her eye. On her table, she saw the earrings, she had wanted to buy at the market, but had found to be too expensive, since she didn't really wear jewellery except for when disguised. She smiled and held them to her heart. He had not been indifferent to her return. Then frustration flared up in her; why could he not just give her a simple sign of what he thought. She was a good assassin, it didn't have to be a grand gesture, she could decode even the smallest signs. She looked at the earrings in her hand again. A few minutes later, she left her room.

He was waiting for her outside, wearing the face of Jaqen for her. He felt his heart jump as she walked out the door, and he saw, she was wearing the earrings. He fell into step beside her, none of them looking directly at each other.

"Thank you for the gift" she said.

"You are most welcome. A man is happy to see his lovely girl return." He looked down at her sideways, with the small smile, which at the same time looked as if he felt superior and was slightly amused by her, but also made her heart beat a little faster.

"Perhaps his girl would like to walk along the river, and tell him about her journey?"

She smiled at him: "She would like that"

They walked for a long time, while she told him about her journey. He listened; proud of her, until she started telling him about how she had flirted her way into the merchant's house. At that point, she had glanced up at his never changing expression several times, and she felt spite rise up in her. Without forming her intent clearly in her mind, she dragged that part of the story out, and kept just the right parts vague enough, for him to draw wrong conclusions.

Jaqen tried not to grind his teeth. He got more and more annoyed, at her and at her assignment. At the guild who had sent her of. At the guard, whom she had apparently found very attractive. They walked around a rock formation, and were secluded and out of sight for others. She let a sentence linger, about what might have happened between her and the guard, as he felt consumed by jealousy. He pulled her close to him, and fought to restrain himself, as he kissed her long and deep. He kept prolonging the kiss, one hand supporting her head, the other pressing her against him, making her very aware of a part of his body, letting her know just how much he desired her. She moaned out of breath, as he kept kissing her greedily, his tongue entwining with hers, kissing her neck, breathing heavy breaths of hot air on her skin, cupping her breast a little too firmly. She felt her knees weaken. He contemplated making love to her right there; he wanted to erase every thought of the handsome guard from her mind. Then he composed himself and drew back breathing heavily, stroking her hair and smiling at her. "A man could almost forget himself… I am very happy to see you again, my lovely girl".

She wanted to stomp her foot in frustration, cursed his smugness in her mind, but gave him what she considered to be a coy smile. The flare of anger in her eyes being apparent to him: "And a girl is happy to see her Jaqen again" she replied. They turned to walk back in silence, and he had to admit to himself, that he was mildly amused by her temper. He had missed it. She felt somewhat appeased, as he took her hand, and they walked hand in hand until they got closer to Braavos. Then he let go of her hand and they walked side by side. Before they parted outside of the House of Black and White, he asked her, if she would care to talk more later tonight. Feeling hurt that he had let go of her hand, as they got nearer the city, she told him, she was quite tired, and would prefer to go straight to bed. He gave her an annoyingly knowing smile, bowed slightly and went down the main hall.

Later that night, as Jaqen lay in his bed, he knew, sleep would not come easy. While he had used her time away to once again become no one, the part of him, he had tried to suppress, had longed for her return every minute of every day. Her return had not at all gone as he had hoped. Every time he had gotten closer to her, he had somehow managed to push her away. Which was good. It was what he should do; keep her at arm's length. But it was not what he wanted. He wanted to hold her close, take away her sorrows and worries, to see her smile; and – while her outbursts of temper amused him – he wanted to make her happy.

Arya was pacing her room again. She was close to tears of disappointment. Yes, he had seemed jealous, which had pleased her, but then he had seemed to stop caring again. It was confusing and frustrating. She stopped as a thought entered her mind. If he could call the shots as to when he wanted to come to her room, so could she. She was not at his back and call, she was not a courtesan. She could go to his room if she wanted, lay with him and leave; she doubted he would keep his smug grin then. She left her room and headed for his. She stopped outside his door, hand on the handle, suddenly feeling insecure. Then she gathered her courage an opened the door slowly and whispered his name.

He had heard her come to his door, recognising her steps, and he had waited anxiously while she hesitated. He felt grateful relief as she slowly opened the door and whispered a questioning "Jaqen?" The room was dark, except for a small candle burning, and he couldn't see the expression on her face. He went out on a limb and held up his cover, hoping she would come and lie next to him. She closed the door behind her, hurried across the floor and slid under his cover and close to him. He let out a sigh of relief and cradled her in his embrace. It was somehow easier here, under the covers in the near-darkness.

"A man is stupid" he whispered and kissed her cheeks "and sorry" he kissed her forehead and her closed eyes "I have missed you" he kissed the tip of her nose and her sweet mouth, lingering at her lips. All thought and anger left Arya, and was replaced by a warm sensation that filled her entire being. He trailed kisses down her neck, slowly peeling of her clothes as he went along. He stretched her arms over her head, and planted kisses down her side, nudging her to turn over on her stomach. He brushed her hair aside, and kissed her neck, watching her skin change and fill with goosebumps. He took his time kissing her back, her buttocks and trailed kisses down her legs. He felt, that if he could stretch this moment to last forever, he would never wish for anything else. He gently turned her to her back again, and kissed his way along her collarbone and toward her breasts. He slowly kissed circles around her breast, making the circle smaller for every time, coming closer to her hardened nipple. Arya felt her entire body tingling and started to whimper as he reached her nipple and slowly slid the tip of his tongue across it. Back and forth, just touching. She arched her back, buried her hands in his hair and tried to pull him closer, but he continued pressing light kisses in a circle around her other breast, repeating the procedure before trailing kisses down her stomach until he almost reached her core, then kissing his way down one leg, and slowly up the other. As he reached her sex, he parted her legs and finally tasted her. Letting his tongue flick back and forth over her button. He wanted to savour the moment, sliding one finger inside of her, finding the spot inside of her that felt a little raw, while still moving his tongue against her; but she arched her back and exploded moaning his name, writhing her body in ecstasy. He waited till her breathing slowed a little before he placed himself between her thighs, kissing her deeply and moving his member back and forth in her wetness. He entered her and lost himself in the rhythm between them, felt her push her hips up, meeting his thrusts until he felt her tighten around him, and he let go, crashed over the edge and emptied himself inside of her. He stayed on top of her for a while, while he felt both of their heartbeats slow down. He briefly felt a pang of guilt, because he had once again not managed to pull out of her in time, but as she started running her fingers through his hair, playing with his white streak, the thought vanished. He shifted them around and placed her with her head against his chest, one arm under her, and the other around her.

She looked up at him, his handsome face relaxed and a smile playing in the corners of his mouth. She tilted her head up to show him, she wanted to kiss him, and he bowed his head down so she could reach.

"Jaqen" she whispered. He looked down at her and frowned; she looked almost scared, and he worried if he had somehow hurt her during sex.

"I.. I am really glad to be back" she said. He sensed, that was not what she had intended to say, and held her gaze, trying to encourage her to speak her mind – a somewhat new experience, since she usually had the opposite problem; speaking her mind, when she shouldn't.

He waited patiently.

Finally he could see her gather her courage, and she asked him:

"Jaqen, do you care for me?"

He smiled, and kissed her head. "Yes" he answered "I care for my lovely girl"

"How much?"

He looked at her, a little confused. He could see her hold his breath and looked questioning at her.

She exhaled and whispered "I think, I am in love with you"

He froze for a second, not knowing what to say, and not able to look away.

He could feel her tense up in his embrace, see her searching his face. Finally he held her a little tighter and whispered back, his voice failing him, his heart pounding: "My lovely girl, I should not fall in love with anyone"

She swallowed hard. "Oh" she said "Never mind" but her voice broke and he could see tears forming in her eyes. She was braver than him, he thought.

He cleared his throat but still whispered: "I should not, but I have. We have to find a way to solve this Arya, a man cannot be Jaqen to a girl, but I still am. You have made me someone, you have made me yours"

She smiled through happy tears and kissed him. "And I will always be Arya Stark who loves Jaqen H'ghar"

He smiled and felt overwhelmed with love for the girl. He knew it could not go on this way, but he could see no solution. She was obviously not aware of how impossible this was, she had never truly planned on becoming no one. He felt her snuggle closer, and heard her breathing deepen as she drifted of to sleep. He kissed her on the hair and closed his eyes. Soon, he would try finding a solution soon.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Thank you for your reviews and for the idea of incorporating some of the people from Aryas earlier life. I am working on that one, and it helped me break the writers block, that has caused the long delay in writing a new chapter. I hope you will enjoy reading.**

Chapter 9

Arya was sitting at a table, listening to The Kindly Man teach her about poisons. While she followed his instructions, and started mixing the strangler on her own, she caught a glimpse of Jaqen walking by. She saw him casting her a sideways look and saw a smile playing in the corners of his mouth. Her heart skipped a beat. Arya was suddenly aware of The Kindly Man looking at her with an unreadable expression and turned her attention back to the task at hand. "A girl must not forget to strive to become no one; no matter how pleasurable distractions she must find as the one, she used to be" he said in a low and warm voice. Arya looked quickly at him, and then looked down at the herbs she was mixing. "A girl will work on it today, as she does every day" she said, feeling a knot of anxiety building in her stomach. What did he know? What did he see? She remembered Jaqen warning her that no one could know, how they felt about each other, but then she remembered lying in his arms, feeling his skin against hers, and she pushed the worries aside.

Later that day Jaqen was at the pool, presumably looking at the people taking water for different purposes, while his mind kept wandering to Arya. The sounds she made underneath him, her skin under his hands, the way her scent lingered on his own skin. He took a deep breath trying to steady himself, as the Kindly Man walked up to him. "A man sees his brother contemplating life" The Kindly Man said. Jaqen didn't respond, but twisted the edges of his mouth in a half smile. "A man has noticed his brother's distress when a certain girl goes on assignments, and a man has concerns of his own" The Kindly Man continued.

Jaqen turned and looked at The Kindly Man, feeling a pang of guilt before answering: "A man thanks his brother for his concerns, but they are not needed. A man knows he has spent a lot of time with a lovely girl, but this is only natural, since a man was the one to bring her here and train her". "Ah yes, of course" The Kindly Man answered, and looked at the still water. Jaqen felt relief, as they stood beside each other, the guilt of betraying his wows simmering just underneath. Suddenly The Kindly Man looked around at the statues encircling the pool and continued: "We must always remember to give thanks to The Many Faced God, remember we are no one, and that death is a gift. We should never fear the gift of the Red God". Jaqen looked startled, before answering in earnest: "My brother need not worry, I have never feared my death, The Red God will take what is his, when it is time. No sooner and no later". The Kindly Man turned around, and looked at Jaqen with sadness in his eyes: "This I know brother. A man does not feel concern, that his brother fears his own death…the concern is that his brother fears another death far more, than he ought to, had he still remained no one". With that, The Kindly Man turned around and walked away, leaving Jaqen speechless.

The Kindly Man returned to give thanks to The Many Faced God shortly after. He prayed for his brother and for the girl. For the Gods to guide them. Others were starting to notice the change in the man. There was not much change in the girl, which was an entirely different problem, and not as grave. The girl did not seem to conform, she was still struggling to become no one, and nothing in her way made them hope, she would ever truly become no one. She was skilled, there was no doubt about that, but she was stubborn and the wolf was too strong in her. The man however was their best assassin, and had been so for many years. His future in the temple was promising, and there were big hopes for his ascension within the guild. There was no way, they would stand by while he continued his journey away from them ad towards being someone for the girl. The Kindly Man prayed for a solution that would cause little harm for them all.

Arya walked through the market with one of the few female faceless men. She was supposed to learn from her, and while they strolled along the market, talking quietly about advantages and disadvantages of the position of women as faceless men, Arya suddenly felt, as if someone was watching her. She let her eyes roam the market, as she had learned, and finally caught his eyes. Immediately she felt a warmth surge through her body, her breath caught as their eyes locked and she felt the tingling in her female spot, that only he evoked. He was standing in an archway on top of one of the bigger buildings surrounding the market, leaning against the wall of the arc seemingly minding his own business, eating an apple and looking at the people underneath him, roaming about the marketplace. Arya knew, he was looking for her. As she met his eyes, she saw his signature smile as he raised one hand to cover his heart. Arya tried to keep the conversation with her companion going, while she mimicked his motion, covering her heart with her hand, showing him that she too loved him. She felt, like she could never break eye contact with him, and the woman by her side noticed her eye had caught something interesting. Before Arya could look away, the woman followed her gaze and saw Jaqen. Jaqen immediately let his gaze pass on, looking as if he had just coincidently let his gaze sweep over Arya while looking at the busy marketplace. "Ahh" the woman sighed, nudging Arya in the side: "He is one of ours, one of the most skilled ones, if not in fact **_the_** most skilled; and his skills go all the way beyond those of our assignments". Arya jerked around at looked at the woman, stunned and with an eerie feeling building up inside of her. The woman paused before continuing: "But you should know about his fighting skills, I've often seen him train you. Wasn't he the one, who brought you to us?"

Arya nodded: "Yes, the man gave me the coin, which brought me here. A girl has known him for as long as she should remember". Something in the way the woman looked at Jaqen really bothered her; something in her eyes, the way her voice dropped to a lower tone when she talked about him. Arya's eyes narrowed: "What did you mean, when you said his skills go beyond our assignments?" The woman smiled at Arya: "I have told you about the desires between men and women, this is not different for the faceless ones, and the man we see is certainly the most skillful in that regard as well" she sighed the last words. Arya looked at her in disbelief, and looked up at Jaqen again. She could see, he knew something was going on, his shoulders were tense. Arya felt the wolf inside her starting to growl, she must misunderstand. After all Jaqen's talk about keeping it a secret, no one knowing what they were doing, he could not have bedded the woman beside her, talking so freely about it. Unless… Arya felt her throat tightening, her eyes burning and a mixture of anger and sadness soaring up inside of her: unless he felt ashamed of her, and wanted to keep her a secret. Arya wanted to scream, didn't want to hear another word about Jaqen, _her_ Jaqen, and this other woman, but the woman continued: "I used to enjoy spending time with him in the nights, as well as did some of the other women. He certainly knows how to please a woman, all though I haven't heard stories about him taking anyone to bed for some time. Hmm he is probably visiting the courtesans… shame though, but…" Arya turned around abruptly, cutting the woman of and started running back to the House of Black and White. Her head was filled with pictures of Jaqen, her Jaqen, his hands on other women, his lips on other lips, other breasts, other hands on his manhood, his voice whispering sweet words to them, all of them. She was stupid, stupid, stupid! She should have become no one a long time ago, why couldn't she get rid of Arya, who hurt, who raged, who wanted to cry.

Jaqen saw Arya's face change and her eyes piercing him with disbelief, before she turned and ran. He couldn't hear, what the two women had been talking about, but it had obviously upset Arya in a way, that had let her forget every lesson she had ever learned about controlling one self. He wanted to follow her example and just run after her, but then he saw the other woman, first looking confused in the direction Arya had run, then meeting his eyes, and he saw something similar to blooming understanding in her eyes, as chock took over his mind. She knew! Whatever they had been talking about, somehow the woman knew how he felt about Arya, or at least that he felt something. He kept his face calm, nodded politely at her and turned as casually around as he could, vanishing from her sight, and headed back to the House. He had to find Arya; he had to find out, what had happened.

Arya knocked over the table in her sleeping cell and paced back and forth. She wanted to scream in frustration, she felt so stupid. He had said he was in love with her; he had made her believe he returned her feelings. She hadn't understood, why he had wanted to keep it a secret, talking about feelings not being compatible with living as a faceless man, but she had believed him. Now it made more sense. He had others, and wanted to keep her a secret, he was ashamed of her, and he didn't want her. Arya never wanted to see him again, how could she ever look him in the eye again, knowing how little she was to him, knowing she had made a fool of herself. And still she wanted to run to him for comfort, wanted him to take her in his arms and call her his lovely girl. She had to get away from him. She took out a bag, and started throwing things in it. Then she heard her door open and she knew it was him.

Jaqen walked back as fast as he could without raising suspicion. He knew, something was wrong, knew he had to get to Arya as quickly as possible. He hurried to her room, hoping to find her there, but unprepared for what he saw. His lovely girl stopped in the middle of a movement and stared at him. He closed the door behind him, and then he saw the bag on her bed, a dress hanging half in and half out of the bag and another dress in her hand. She was packing. He felt frozen. She was leaving. Leaving him. He could see it in her eyes, and felt as if his world stopped, his heart stopped and he couldn't breathe. Then she jumped forward, hitting his chest with her fists clutched, and he heard her repeating over and over again: "Why did you do it, why did you lie to me?" He didn't move, couldn't move and the thought "she is leaving you" kept repeating itself in his mind. Suddenly she slapped him hard over his face, and he woke. He felt himself acting on pure instinct and caught her hands trying to embrace her, while she struggled to get free. Finally he managed to press her to him and wrapped his arms around her, while she still tried to punch him. In the little space between them her punches seemed heartbreaking in their lightness, and he tried to calm her down. Without any warning her legs gave away, and she started to sob as he caught her in his arms, cradled her to him and without any coherent thought he whispered into her hair "Where are you going my lovely girl, why are you leaving me?"

She looked up at him with exhausted anger: "Leaving you? I thought, there is no you to leave. Why did you lie to me Jaqen? Was it fun to watch me make a fool of myself?" She struggled to get free once more, but he tightened his hold on her, looking at her in disbelief and confusion.

"When did I lie to my lovely girl? What happened at the market?"

Arya finally managed to squirm free and stood in front of him, and screamed: "You **_fucked_** her! Her and everyone else in this god forsaken house! I stood there and heard her brag about bedding you, how you fucked all of them really good, and it was no secret Jaqen. There was no reason to keep it a secret, the only one to keep a secret is me. Why Jaqen? Why are you ashamed of me? Why did you pretend to be in love with me? Did you lay in bed with the other women and whores and laugh about the stupid love-struck girl, who believed every stupid lie you told her?"

Jaqen stood frozen in disbelief, looking at her in despair, and then she saw something else in his eyes. She had expected his usual smug half-smile, but for the first time ever she saw anger flash in his eyes. His normal controlled attitude gave way for a burning anger, as his lips twisted in a snarl:

"You are stupid!"

Arya took a step back, before he yelled at her:

"Did you listen to ANYTHING I told you in the past months? Or did you just choose to listen to what that NOBODY of a woman told you!"

She saw him shiver as he tried to collect himself in vain, and stood stunned at his outburst as her always calm Jaqen walked towards her, grabbing her arms so hard, it would definitely leave a mark. And then his lips were on hers, and he kissed her so hard, she thought she would break. She opened her mouth, but before she could form a sound, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, and she clung to him, kissing him back desperately, not able to form any thoughts. She felt like all flesh, and touch and wetness and hardness, as he ripped her dress of her back and planted hard demanding kisses down her body. She gasped and tried to catch her breath, wanting more, wanting to feel every part of him, as he pushed her against the wall and she lifted her legs up and around his waist. She heard him mumble "My lovely girl. MY girl, my Arya" as he frantically pushed her skirt up and ripped her smallclothes apart. She buried her hands in his hair and moaned his name, as he undid his breeches and slid his throbbing manhood inside of her. She moaned in pleasure and held him closer as he pumped into her hard and desperate. He buried his face by her neck and whispered in hoarse moans: "don't you know you are my love. Don't you know you are everything? You can't leave me Arya, please" She felt his breath on her neck for every word, for every time he pounded into her, and she felt herself clamping around him in release as he cried his own climax into her mouth.

He placed his forehead against hers as they came down, and he steadied his breath. Then he entangled her legs and carried her over to her bed. A short anger flared up in him again, as he threw the half packed bag hard against the wall, and lowered her softly onto the bed, placing light kisses all over her face and her neck. He gently peeled the torn dress of her, and stripped his own clothes of. Arya felt dizzy with too much emotion, and he held her close to him while wrapping the bed-skins around both of them. He brushed the hair out of her face, and whispered:

"Arya my love, my lovely girl. Yes, I have known other women before you, but none after you. I have not loved anyone but you, don't you understand, that is the difference? How can you think I am ashamed of you, when I want nothing more, then for the world to know you are mine?" Arya was unable to speak. He had told her before, that he was in love with her, but he had never talked so freely about his feelings – he always seemed to be too uncomfortable when she tried to. Still the jealousy and the doubt gnawed away at her, and she looked at him questionably, as he continued between kisses:

"Knowing other women before you was no offence to my wows to the Many Faced God. Loving you is, my lovely girl, which is why we have to keep it a secret. Not because I don't want people to know of my love for you, and not because you are less to me, than any other woman I have known; but because I want to tell the world of my love for you, because you are everything to me and because when loving you, I am clearly no longer no one. I am someone, when I should not be".

He kissed the tears, that had started rolling down her cheeks, away and whispered in her ear: "jalan atthirari ann, you are the moon of my life". She kissed him softly in between sobs of relief, and held him tight to her. Her hands roamed his body, trying to take in all of him at one time. Jaqen felt himself harden again, and trailed kisses down to her breasts, letting his tongue play with her hardened nipples, feeling himself grow painfully hard at her moans. "Jalan atthirari ann" he whispered again, as he slid his hand between her legs, felling her wetness, parting her folds with his fingers and rubbing her knot of pleasure with his thumb, while diving two of his fingers inside of her, stroking her inner walls. "You are so tight, my lovely girl, and so wet for me". She moaned loudly as she heard him talking, and reached out to encircle his hardness, stroking up and down, tightening her grip making him hiss in pleasure between clenched teeth: "Gods Arya, you feel so wonderful, my lovely girl. Never leave me, never let me go." He started thrusting into her hand, found her mouth with his and moaned deep rumbling moans into her mouth, letting his tongue wrestle hers. He gripped her hips and turned her around, covering her backside with his body, entering her slowly while rubbing her most sensitive spot with one hand and squeezing one of her firm breasts with the other, pinching her hardened nipple between his fingers. She gasped in pleasure and pushed back to meet his thrusts, panting and moaning his name, feeling the heat build in her, as she heard him start talking feverishly "Gods you feel so good, my lovely girl, do you like it when I fuck you?" She heard herself moan "Yes" and he thrust harder and faster into her, until he came with a moaning "ahhh", his seed pumping into her, as she felt her body cramp around him in an explosion of lust and relief.

While he kissed her tenderly, whispering soothing words of love, in the other end of the house The Kindly Man was listening to the guild's discussion about them, with growing concern. "It has become clear today, that she must be removed from him" one of the brothers said. The Kindly Man nodded with sad eyes: "Yes, but with as little harm to any of them as possible. We cannot under any circumstances harm them".

The woman spoke: "He will not be able to remain faceless if she stays. I heard her sister is back at Winterfell with the Hound. That is where she should go. The wolf is strong within her, and she will never become faceless, best we send her away now, before our brother is no longer able to adhere to his vows".

"I fear, a man will not stand by and idly let the girl leave" The Kindly Man said, and with a sigh continued: "We must send him on an assignment long enough, to let the girl arrive at Winterfell"

"But will the girl comply?" asked the woman.

The Kindly Man looked uneasy as he replied: "She will if she thinks, a man is not coming back…"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

In the dark, Arya nuzzled into Jaqen's chest and sighed happily. She planted small kisses where ever she could reach, and heard the rumble of him chuckling inside his chest. Her arm was draped over his abdomen, the other one squeezed between their bodies and her head resting on his shoulder, while he lay on his back, cradling her in his arms. She pushed her nose deep into his skin and inhaled his scent. Jaqen's hands traced lazy patterns up and down her back. Now and then he lowered his head and kissed her hair. Arya lifted her head, planted her chin on his chest and looked at him: "Those words you said, the ones about the moon of your life, what were they?"

Jaqen smiled at her: "Jalan atthirari ann is Dothraki, my lovely girl, to tell you, you are the moon of my life"

"I like it" Arya smiled "when did you learn Dothraki?"

"A man was once a little boy, not Dothraki but living on Essos for a while. A man thinks his father took him there on travels" Jaqen answered.

"You never told me, you remembered anything from your childhood"

"A girl never asked" Jaqen smirked and kissed her "but a man has only recently remembered bits and pieces from his time before becoming no one". He didn't want to think of the implications of the flashes of memory that sometimes appeared, when he was with his lovely girl feeling content. It had only happened a couple of times, and only when he lay relaxed with her in his arms, but it had worried him none the less. He hadn't even been aware of the Dothraki words until he spoke them. To stop the thoughts he caught her lips between his teeth while he moved his hands to her sides, tickling her. She squirmed and laughed into his kiss, and tried to tickle him back. They started fighting for control, giggling and kissing, tickling each other until the mood changed into desire, and the laughing and tickling was replaced by moans and caresses.

The next morning they awoke slowly in each other's arms. Arya turned lazily to face him, and Jaqen could see, she had something on her mind. He kissed the tip of her nose: "What is it my lovely girl?"

Arya inhaled deeply, gathering courage before asking: "Do we have to stay here Jaqen? Could we not go live somewhere else?"

Jaqen's eyes grew clouded with sadness; he had known this question would eventually come up: "A man has said sacred vows and has given his life to the Many Faced God" he sighed "A mans life is here, everything he is and everything that holds honor. A girl knows this."

Arya moved a little, feeling dissatisfied: "But what would happen, if we were to leave?"

Jaqen held her a little tighter: "A girl has not said any vows and is free to leave, but a man cannot leave without betraying everything he is and believes in. Do not ask that of me, my lovely girl"

Arya felt disappointment filling her eyes and her throat: "But what are we going to do then? I mean, if we can't leave, but we can't be together if we stay, what other option is there, other than…" she bit her lover lip and looked down.

Jaqen gently put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to his, kissing her mouth, her lips still swollen from the many kisses of the night they had shared: "We cannot stop being together, my lovely girl, but what to do, a man does not yet know. He will need some more time, to figure it out". Arya threw her hands around him, the wolf inside her shivering as if cold with premonition: "I really hope, there will be a way for us to leave this place Jaqen."

As Arya was training in the sun with other apprentices, Jaqen was summoned to the guild. They sat around the table discussing an assignment one of the others was supposed to leave for today. The other man had fallen ill and would not be able to perform his duty, another one would have to take over and leave immediately. They decided to send Jaqen, since he was their most accomplished assassin, and the one that would have the least trouble adapting to a new plan of assassination with such short notice. Jaqen didn't want to leave but knew, he could not refuse, so he set out to find the lovely girl. He had been asked to leave immediately. Arya was not to be found with the other apprentices, and Jaqen was getting irritated looking for her, when he knew, he had little time. Some of the others from the guild caught up with him wondering out loud, why he had not yet packed, since a boat was about to take of shortly, that would ensure the timely execution of his task. Jaqen hurried to his sleeping cell, packed up a few necessities and quickly wrote a letter to his lovely girl, explaining to her, what had happened. He left the letter in her room, and walked towards the boat constantly searching his surroundings for a glimpse of his lovely girl. Everything in him screamed to hold her and at least kiss her goodbye.

Arya returned to the House of Black and White an hour later, talking to her fellow apprentice, laughing and enjoying the sun. It had been a rare treat to be excused from training to go search for a specific flower, needed for the medicine they were to mix tomorrow. After dropping of the flowers Arya went in search for Jaqen.

At nighttime she still had not found him, and went to the pool waiting for him to pass by on his way back from where ever he was. She was starting to get annoyed, masking the worry, that something was not right. After about an hour the Kindly Man passed by and saw her waiting: "A girl looks distressed" he said kindly "Is she waiting for something?"

Arya tried to hide her worry. "A girl is waiting for a man, she has a question for him, but has not been able to find him all day" she said.

The Kindly Man took her hand, and Arya looked at him in surprise. This comforting gesture was not common for him, and his eyes looked sad as he asked: "A girl is looking for the man she calls Jaqen, yes?"

Arya's eyes went from surprise to chock, as the Kindly Man said the name, she thought no one knew she had named her love. The Kindly Man sighed and stroked her hair in a fatherly gesture, making Arya go from worried to terrified: "What has happened to him? Where is he?"

"The man you call Jaqen has left, and will not be coming back for a long time. He has decided his loyalties lay with the Many Faced God, and he will not return, until this place is free of distractions" The Kindly Man looked at her, waiting for her to understand.

Arya felt dizzy. What was he saying? Jaqen had left her? After the night they had shared. "He wouldn't do that", she said almost without uncertainty in her voice "he wouldn't leave without saying goodbye!" She stood up, anger and confusion filling her eyes. The Kindly man stood and once again took her hands "And yet he did child. And yet he did"

At the look in her eyes, the Kindly Man cringed inside. He knew what the real reason for Jaqen's departure was; they had framed both of them. He had seen Jaqen on the verge of panic, trying to find the girl before leaving. He had never seen his brother like that before. And he knew of the letter Jaqen had written, that no longer existed.

The girl shook her head: "That can't be true. Not after… not after…" she looked at the Kindly Man with a mixture of despair and pleading written all over her face and posture, as she knew she could not finish the sentence. She could not tell him about the nights they shared. It all had to be a mistake. Jaqen would not leave her like this, she was his lovely girl, the moon of his life.

The Kindly Man squeezed her hands to make her look at him: "I know" he almost whispered "I am not blind Arya". Arya felt, as if he had knocked the wind out of her. The Kindly Man called her Arya; this was not good. She wanted to cover her ears, but he still held her hands and continued: "I know about his struggles and the feelings that have blossomed between you. But he has made his choice. The only choice he could make. He will not return as long as you stay here, girl". Arya felt sick, her stomach tying up in knots, her head spinning. "No, no, no, that is not true" The only thing she could feel was the grip the Kindly Man had on her hands, her knees started to give away under her.

The Kindly Man felt shocked and sickened by his own actions. He had expected the girl to rage and yell, she was strong and stubborn like no one, he had ever met before. She had endured far too many hardships too early in her life, and nothing had broken her. He had not thought she could break, until now. He had thought, this would be the only way to part them, without any severe harm, but the look in her eyes was a dark abysmal of pain and fear. The Kindly Man wanted to somehow comfort her: "This was not an easy choice for him" he whispered.

Arya fell to her knees and threw up violently, heaving for breath between the cramps forcing vile up. The Kindly Man dipped a cloth in the pool and wiped her face with it. "I will go to Braavos" she said "I will stay in Braavos and then he can return here, and I can still see him now and then" she pleaded.

"It will not be enough, girl" said the Kindly Man "but we have good news for you. Your sister Sansa is back at Winterfell with the warrior called the Hound, and your two little brothers are with her. They are not dead. The man you love heard this before leaving. It was his wish you go there, and take back your old life". All blood drained from Arya's body. This was too much. Too many thoughts and feelings raced inside of her. The joy that her sister and two smaller brothers were alive and well; there were Starks at Winterfell again, she had a home. Jaqen! Jaqen did not want her after all. He wanted her away from him. She had not even had the chance to say good bye. He had kissed her for the last time. Touched her for the last time, and she hadn't known. She had had no idea. She had talked about leaving. That was probably why he had decided against her. She had pushed him away. He had asked for more time, but she had been to stubborn, she had wanted things her way. And now he was gone. She had slept in his arms. Had she known that was the last time, he would hold her, she would never had gone to sleep. Sansa was at Winterfell. Bran and Rickon were alive. And Jaqen had left her.

Her head was spinning and suddenly all went dark.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Arya woke up in her sleeping cell and felt numb as she remembered what had happened. She turned over and threw up into her bedpan. Jaqen. Jaqen had left her. He had decided, he didn't want to see her anymore, and had left Braavos waiting for her to disappear from his life. He didn't love her after all, or at least not enough. She fought back tears and struggled not to spiral into the darkness again. Suddenly she grew angry. Coward! He had whispered words of love in her ear all night, and then he had had a change of heart and had run away; he didn't even have the decency to tell her to her face. She sat up in bed, but immediately felt dizzy and sick. She threw up again, and fell back into bed. It was her own fault. She had pushed him too far; she had accused him time and again of not wanting her. No wonder he grew tired with her childish behavior. She sobbed into her pillow, her body shaking violently with grief and embarrassment. She would never again be so stupid or fragile. She was a Stark, a wolf. She would go home, back to Winterfell, to Sansa, Rickon and Bran… she thought the Kindly Man had mentioned he Hound, but either that was a mistake, or she would have easy access to crossing one person of her list. She got up, emptied her bedpan and began packing.

She stood aboard a ship back to Westeros the next day. She had talked to the Kindly Man, who had agreed this was for the best. They both knew, she would never become no one. He had given her the money, that were rightfully hers after her assignments, and she was surprised at how many there were. She thought, she was probably expected to give some of them to the Gods, but she felt she owed them nothing. The Kindly Man had given her a wonderful horse as a parting gift, and she had packed all of her belongings – which weren't many. She had feared she would be too sick to travel, as she had once again vomited repeatedly this morning, but it seemed to have been a reaction to the past two days, as she was feeling better now. The only thing she regretted as the ship sailed out was her moment of weakness this morning, as she had snuck into Jaqen's sleeping cell, while everyone else was still asleep. Not only had she left him a note under his pillow, she had also stolen one of the tunics, he had left behind. He had worn it but not yet had it cleaned. Back in her room she had buried her face in it, crying into his scent lingering on the tunic, until she had gotten ill again. She shrugged; there was no changing it now. She was on her way home to the people who loved her, and she would have to forget about Jaqen. In time the pain would have to lessen.

Arya spend every morning aboard the ship fighting seasickness, which was still better than the hours spend during the day, where she had nothing to occupy her thoughts, and pictures of Jaqen kept creeping into her mind. But her intent to stay the Wolf, strong and proud, fell apart during the time at sea. She had no appetite, and all though she felt worst in the mornings, she could barely eat anything during the day. She was afraid to go to sleep because of the dreams – or rather because she was afraid to wake up from the dreams. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him, felt his arms around him and heard him whispering "my lovely girl" and "my love". Sometimes she couldn't fight sleep and when she woke up, she could still feel his hands on her body, his breath on her skin, and no matter how much she wanted to be angry or forget him, it made her crumble and dissolve in sobs and tears. She wanted to hate him but instead, she hated herself for her weakness. During the day she stayed in her cabin, and only at night would she go out on deck, when there would be peace and quiet, and the salty wind blew her mind empty.

Back in her cabin she would curl up in bed and try to focus on returning to Winterfell and seeing her siblings. The Kindly Man had told her Sansa had married the Hound, and he had helped her regain Winterfell by forming an alliance with the Dragon Queen, Daenerys Targaryen. She knew, she should have been shocked, she should concentrate on her list of vengeance, but she was indifferent to it now. She held Jaqen's tunic to her face and tried to feel any of the feelings of anger, revenge and defiance Arya had felt, but all she could feel was a deep, dark void.

From where the boat docked Arya should be able to reach Winterfell within three days. She had planned to spend the nights at inns on the way, but after the first night she decided, she didn't need the dreams the nights spend in warm beds offered her. She still threw up every time she tried to eat, so she had stopped trying and instead sipped water. The second night she drove the horse to keep on riding through the night, trying to think of nothing but Winterfell. As it dawned she saw Winterfell in front of her, and in her exhaustion she thought she saw Jaqen ride towards her. She smiled and slumped over the horse's neck as he reached her.

Sandor had seen a rider approach Winterfell, and had quickly mounted his horse to go see, if it was friend or foe. It had seemed harmless enough, a lone rider, probably a common traveler, and as he came nearer he saw a girl smile and slump over. He jumped of his horse and caught the unconscious girl in his arms, just before she fell to the ground. He turned her in his arms and brushed the hair out of her face before he froze: "Little Wolf?" He held the girl in one of his huge arms, and used the other to swing them both onto his horse, before he rode back to Winterfell yelling for Sansa.

Arya stayed unconscious for almost two days, Sansa barely leaving her side. She turned and tossed and cried out for Jaqen, and Sansa felt helpless, not knowing where her sister had come from or what had happened to her. She had never given up hope that Arya was alive, but she had over the last years given up hope, of ever seeing her again. She thanked the gods for bringing back her sister, and prayed for her recovery.

Finally Arya opened her eyes and Sansa took her hand saying her name. Arya looked confused for a moment and then broke down crying. Sansa held Arya while her body shook with sobs, whispering words of assurance, wondering what had happened to break her sister. Arya of all people, who had always been defiant and lively. As she calmed down, Sansa dried Arya's eyes with her hands and went to the door, where she called out, that Arya was awake. Bran and Rickon came to her room, placed themselves next to her, cradling her, and Aria broke down again. As she looked up, she saw The Hound standing in the door, holding a child. It looked so misplaced Arya's sobs turned to laughter and she pointed to the Hound: "What is he..he.. doing?" she cramped over in laughter. Sansa smiled and walked over to Sandor: "Arya, you know Sandor and this is our son Ned". Arya stopped laughing: "You really married the Hound?"

"I did" Sansa answered "He took care of me when I was at The Red Keep, and later he found me and took me away from Littlefinger. Without him, we would not have been able to take back Winterfell". Arya looked at the Hound "You killed Mycah" she said tired "Aye, that I did little Wolf, and you left me for dead". "I did" said Arya and looked at the baby: "Ned?" she asked, "like dad?" Sansa nodded. Arya suddenly looked around: "I need a bedpan!" she said before she threw up next to the bed.

Over the next days Sansa spent as much time with her sister as possible. The boys came in and out of her room at all times, and the Hound stuck his head in and mumbled something every now and then. Sansa already knew some of what had happened to Arya from Sandor, but she tried to get her to talk about the time from when she left Sandor for dead and now. Arya answered vaguely, and instead Sansa told her about her life at the Red Keep, about Sandor, her time posing as Littlefinger's bastard daughter, and how the Hound had found her and helped her form bonds with the Dragon Queen and regaining Winterfell; how Rickon and Bran had been found and brought home, how she enjoyed motherhood and how she missed their parents. As the days went by, Arya seemed to recover somewhat, and they went for daily walks, every day walking a bit further. Sandor always walked behind them, giving them space to talk in private but keeping close enough, so he could carry Arya home when she collapsed. Sansa kept waiting for her sister to become the Arya she had known, the wild and untamable Arya, but she had to admit Sandor had been right, when he had told her something had broken the Little Wolf.

After only a month away Jaqen returned to the House of Black and White. He was very satisfied with having accomplished the assignment so swiftly, and was quite nervous how angry his lovely girl would be, that he had not managed to find her before leaving. He felt a deja-vu as he had to force himself to walk slowly up to the House, and hoped he would find her inside.

He walked slowly through the main hall, looking for her as the Kindly Man came towards him. "A man sees a brother returning from a job well done", the Kindly Man said. Jaqen gave a small bow of the head and replied: "A man has returned and must give thanks to the Many Faced God for the gifts he has bestowed". The Kindly Man had a flicker in his eyes, almost as if he was nervous. "A man should come into the room of the guild to receive some news". Jaqen didn't show his surprise as he followed the Kindly Man into the room and sat down in front of him. The Kindly Man took a deep breath before starting "A man knows his brother has had a special interest in a girl, who is now again known as Arya Stark", Jaqen felt frozen as the Kindly Man continued: "The girl chose to leave for her childhood home, the day after a man went on his assignment. We received word her sister and younger brothers were alive and well, and had retaken Winterfell, and the girl chose to leave us, and go live with her family". The Kindly Man could see all color drain from Jaqen's face. "Did she.." Jaqen's voice gave out on him, and he cleared his throat: "Did she leave a message for me?" The Kindly Man shook his head. "No brother, there was no message". Jaqen sat staring into the air, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his lovely girl had left. He had hardly been able to wait until he was back with her, holding her in his arms, feeling her lips press against his. Had she been angry with him? But she knew he had to go whenever the guild gave him an assignment. He looked at the Kindly Man again and threw some of his caution away; she must have talked to the Kindly Man before leaving "Did she talk to you before leaving? Did she mention me, brother? Does she wait for me at Winterfell?" The Kindly Man looked saddened as he answered: "She does not wait for the man she calls Jaqen; she made it very clear he was not a part of her life as Arya, and that she thought him to be an honorable man, who was bound to the House of Black and White by his vows". Jaqen felt nothing. He could not move, could not think. He felt as if he was watching himself from the outside without having any control over the person he was watching. He sat staring into the air long after the Kindly Man had left. At some point during the night he got up and walked to her sleeping cell. It was empty. All her things were gone. Jaqen sat down on her bed, stroking the sheets, before he lay down and found a faint scent of her, still lingering. He heard someone yell her name and realized it was him. He lay there for hours trying to keep breathing, still without being able to form a coherent thought. All he could do was try to keep breathing, although he wasn't sure, he wanted to without her. As the morning came he gathered her bedding in his arms and carried it to his own sleeping cell, folded it together and moved his pillow to put her bedding down. He watched in frozen amazement as a piece of paper from under his pillow flew up and landed on the floor. He watched himself pick up the paper and read it. He didn't understand the words his lovely girl had written. She was sorry he didn't love her, but she still loved him? She would respect his wish not to find her here? She would never bother him again and wished him a long and happy life? Something was not right. Had she not received his letter? He read the note over and over again. In his mind he went through the day, where he had left. The extraordinary meeting of the guild; how everybody had agreed without discussion that he was the only one, who could deal with this urgent matter; how he had not been able to find her, to say goodbye. How his fellow faceless men had caught up with him, hurrying him to get away... Suddenly things added up in a very different way. What had they done to his lovely girl? He jumped up, grabbed his sword and ran out of his room screaming with rage.

At Winterfell Sansa ran into Arya's room, shaking her awake from yet another dream, where she called out for someone named Jaqen. She still had not wanted to tell Sansa who he was. Holding Arya with one hand Sansa as usual reached out for the bedpan she knew, Arya would need. Sansa held Arya's hair as she emptied her stomach into the bedpan, and suddenly a thought came to Sansa's mind: "Arya, when did you last have your moonblod?" She could see Arya's body tense up, as she lifted her head from the bedpan and met Sansa's eyes. Sansa saw Arya try to think back, and watched as her eyes grew big with realization.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Jaqen threw open the door to the Kindly Man's room, screaming at him. The Kindly Man was out of his bed in one swift movement, and grabbed his sword just in time to counter the blow from Jaqen. "What did you do to her?" Jaqen screamed, oblivious to the many people gathering in front of the Kindly Mans room. The Kindly Man was shaken. He had never seen the other man being anything but the picture of calm. He was the example referred to, when others had trouble keeping their emotions under control. Jaqen pushed the bigger man against the wall, and the Kindly Man saw nothing of the man he knew in his eyes, as Jaqen snarled in a dangerously low voice: "If you have hurt her, I swear by all the gods, death will not be a gift" The Kindly man rose his hand to keep the faceless men coming to his aid away. "We didn't hurt the girl, brother" he said, trying to understand what had caused this reaction "I already told you, she chose to leave". Jaqen threw the Kindly Man through the room "Yes, so you told me, you lying bastard! And I found this!" He threw Arya's note at the Kindly Man. "Read it" he growled, and as the Kindly Man hesitated, trying to figure out, what the note could say, Jaqen kicked him screaming "READ IT!" The Kindly Man took the note, and gave another gesture, holding the other assassins away. Jaqen snorted at them: "do any of you wish to take me on?" He paced madly back and forth in front of them, "are you all in on this? Come on fight me face to face instead of these childrens games, YOU COWARDS!" The guild around him was taken aback; this was not how they had planned this. One of them took a step towards Jaqen and said in a calming voice: "Brother,.." "Call me brother one more time and you shall not see tomorrow" Jaqen yelled at him, gripping him by the neck and disarming him before he could even reach for a weapon. "Now tell me, what you bastards did to my lovely girl!"

The Kindly Man put down the note from Arya and shook his head at the others to tell them, there was no use denying it. He sighed and sat down at the table, before he started to talk. He told Jaqen how they had noticed him becoming attached to the girl, who would never become no one, and how they thought she was dragging Jaqen down with her. How they came up with the plan of one of them feigning illness, so they could send Jaqen away. How they had made sure Arya was far from the House of Black and White, on a mock errand, until Jaqen was on the ship, ensuring they could not talk to each other. How they had let her search for him all day until she was tired, and how he had told her, Jaqen had left because he did not want to be around her. That Jaqen would not return as long as she stayed, and how they had then told her, Jaqen wanted her to return to Winterfell.

Jaqen screamed in anger as he threw over the table, the Kindly Man sat in front of. "You told her, I would not come back if she stayed? You cruel and unhuman monsters, it had been kinder had you told her I was dead! What did she do?" The Kindly Man sighed: "She left the next day" Jaqen pulled him up from the chair and held him against the wall again, holding his sword in front of The Kindly Mans throat "What did she **_do_**? How did she react?" The Kindly Man thought for a moment and silently told him in every detail, how Arya had reacted. Jaqen pushed him away and roared as he swung his sword at the table, the chair, the bed, anything in the room until he stood panting over a heap of splinters. The Kindly Man stepped up to him, placing his hand on his shoulder.

"Now you have raged over the betrayal, as you have a right to do. We will forget this has happened. You must remember, you have duties, you are no one, and no one does not mourn the loss of a girls embrace. We will all welcome you back as our faceless brother. All this was done to not lose our faceless brother, our best assassin, who seemed in danger of forgetting he was no one ". Jaqen took a deep breath and straightened his back. He gained control over his breathing and gave them all his signature half-smile. He heard several sighs of relief, as the Kindly Man announced: "let us leave this unfortunate episode and all learn from it, and now go break our fast". As they turned to leave, Jaqen cleared his throat and they turned back to look at him, meeting his calm smile, with smiles of their own: "A man is glad we have shed light on what has happened, it is always best for the guild to be honest with one another, and I apologize for the things I have destroyed here this morning" The guild cast him forgiving smiles as he continued: "as you go break you fast, I will pack my belongings and collect my coins, before I leave for Winterfell" The Kindly Man looked at him in disbelief; "A man should not speak such things" he rebuked. Jaqen held up his hand to stop him: "I am not **_a man_**, I am Jaqen H'gar" he said, and walked out.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: I am sorry for the late update, I have been busy with exams. I hope you will enjoy the next chapters, and thank you all so much for your reviews. I loooove reviews  
**

Chapter 13

Arya sat in bed, her hands resting protectively over her stomach and a smile playing in her face. She was pregnant. She had a part of Jaqen growing inside of her. She looked down at her stomach and whispered: "You are a child of love. No matter what has happened or what will happen, you are made of love". She giggled childlike and caressed her stomach. Sansa entered her room with a bowl of porridge and some tea. Arya sat up and smiled at Sansa: "Thank you. I need to keep something down, so I can regain my strength for the baby". Sansa was happy to finally see her sister's eyes come alive, the change in Arya was amazing, but she was also concerned. Arya kept calling out for someone in her sleep, but she had not yet told her who this "Jaqen" was. How did Arya get pregnant and how could they find the man, so he could marry her pregnant sister. She looked at Arya, who took tiny spoonfuls of porridge and seemed to fight hard, to keep the food down.

"Arya" Sansa started "You have to talk to me. Tell me how you got pregnant, please!" Arya looked mischievously at Sansa before replying: "Oh Sansa, you have a child of your own. Surely you know how babies are made..." Sansa giggled and hit Arya lightly on the arm. "You know, that is not what I meant. We must find the father so you can marry him." Arya's face fell and her smile disappeared. "That is not possible Sansa. He can not be found!" Sansa's heart almost broke for her sister, whose voice had become filled with pain and sadness. "If you are worried about what to say to people, we can always say, I am widowed, and that it is to painful for me to talk about the father. That should save you some embarrassment. Or I can leave once I regain my strength, hopefully before I start to show." Arya looked defiantly at Sansa. Sansa threw her arms around Arya in a tight embrace: "Oh Arya, that's not what I meant. Do you really think, that after marrying Sandor I care about what people will think? Do you think, that was a choice that was easy? I had to fight hard to be allowed to follow my heart, and I wish the same for you. I want you to be happy Arya, but I worry how you got pregnant" Sansa kissed her sister's cheeks, tears filling her eyes and her voice trembling as she continued "The way you arrived here, so broken and hurt. The way you haven't been yourself since you've been back. I fear.." She had to pause and swallow hard before continuing: "I fear someone hurt you...Forced themselves on you.." Sansa's voice trailed off.

Arya took her sisters hands and squeezed them lightly before saying in a low voice: "The child was made in love Sansa, not with force. It is all I have left from the father. I..." Arya turned her head and looked away for a long time before looking down at their hands and continuing: "I can't talk about him Sansa, please try to understand." Sansa nodded and kissed the top of her sisters head, then she stood and left Arya to her thoughts.

Jaqen had packed his things, collected his money and headed for the exit. As he passed he pool, the Kindly Man seemed to step out from nowhere, and stopped him in his tracks. Jaqen smiled sadly: "I had expected, you would not just watch me leave" he said, his hand on his sword "but feel assured nothing but death will keep me from leaving, and I will not surrender to death without a fight, leaving Arya to think, I abandoned her". The Kindly Man held his hands up in front of him, palms facing Jaqen, in a gesture to show, he meant no harm. "A Man comes not to fight you" he said "but to once again remind you of your oaths and vows. Think of this, before you decide to leave the temple. You have given your life to the Many Faced God"

Jaqen's mouth twisted in contempt: "I consider my vows to be null and void after the lies and deceit the guild has exercised."

The Kindly Man took a reconciliatory step towards Jaqen: "Yes you are right brother; we have treated you badly, and we will have to make extensive sacrifices to the gods, to ask for forgiveness for our errors. But it is we who have wronged you, not the God. Your vows were not to us, but to the God. Therefore none of us will try to stop you, should you want to abandon your vows. But I urge you to remember, that you gave your life to the God, and the God will take what is his. You gave a life to the God, and only death can pay for life. This you know!"

Jaqen had to take a deep breath to regain control of his anger "Do you know, what she called you?" The Kindly Man looked questioningly at Jaqen. "Arya! She had names for all of you. Do you know what she called you?" without waiting for an answer, Jaqen continued "The Kindly Man" he almost spat the words in contempt. "She called you _the Kindly Man_. She thought you to be kind-hearted. Do you have any idea how much she trusted you? You think my anger is because you betrayed me?" He laughed a dry laughter, dripping with contempt. "My life is nothing to me. She is the moon of my life, without her there is only dark night." He took out the bag containing his gold coins, his share for countless assassinations, opened it and emptied it into the pool. He looked the Kindly Man in the eye: "I owe nothing". The Kindly Man looked sadly at him, bend over, dipped his hand into the pool and scooped out a large amount of golden coins. He took Jaqen's hand and pressed the coins into it: "For your journey to Winterfell, brother. My horse is saddled and waiting for you outside; you may have it. I urge you however, to reconsider once more. A man would be loathe to see something happen to his brother, and we both know, only death can pay for life, and you gave your life to the god". Jaqen closed his hand around the coins and looked at the Kindly Man with his signature half-smile. For a moment there was a shimmer of hope in the Kindly Man's eyes. Then Jaqen bowed and said: "I am no longer your brother" and walked out of the temple.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

At Winterfell Arya hurried around the corner and slowed down. She breathed the crisp, cold air and sighed in relief. She had managed to escape Sansa and her never ending questions. She walked towards the woods. She knew Sansa meant well, but she could not talk about her life at the temple with her sister. How could sweet, gentle Sansa ever understand what she had done, how she had taken lives without remorse. Sansa who – in spite of the scandal of marrying the Hound – had remained ever the dignified Lady Stark of Winterfell. Sansa who had apparently set herself the goal, to get Arya to open up and talk about her life, while they were apart... and about Jaqen. Arya's hands wandered to her stomach without any thought to it. She longed to tell someone about Jaqen, but she couldn't. It hurt to much, and how could anyone understand, when she wasn't sure she understood it herself. How could she tell Sansa about her love for Jaqen and his choice not to want her, without having to explain about their lives as assassins? She would have loved to tell Sansa, about her broken heart, and perhaps have her elder sister comfort her. To be able to cry over her lost love, that had left this never subsiding pain inside of her. To tell her how she rejoiced over the baby, growing inside of her. A part of Jaqen. A new life. She knew it was a son, and she would name him after his father. She would give him all the love, his father did not want from her. Arya shook her head and blinked away the tears forming in her eyes. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the Hound.

The first times, she had noticed him, she had been annoyed. She had regained a lot of her strenght, and tried to sneak away from Sansa every day, walking in the woods, clearing her head. She was sure, the walks in the cold, fresh air did the baby good; he was after all half a Stark of Winterfell. At some point she had noticed the Hound following her. She had found it irritating, and felt it as an intrusion. She needed to be able to take walks by herself, clearing her head. She needed the solitude to process the hurt.

But she had soon found out, that the Hound somehow seemed to understand her. He seemed to follow her, only to keep her safe. Like a good dog, she thought to herself, smiling at the thought. He had kept a distance, and never intruded to talk or ask questions. And after a few days, she had started to like his distant company. They hardly spoke at home either, but he didn't really seem to speak much to anyone except perhaps Sansa, when they were alone. She had still not understood, what had made her sister love him, but on her near solitary walks, she had come to understand, the feeling of safety he instilled.

Arya stopped. She had walked further than she normally did. She was at the little lake, where she had used to bathe with her siblings, many years ago, on warm summer days. Together with Rob and Jon she had climbed the tree next to the lake, climbed out on the branch reaching over the water, and jumped in, while Sansa - standing on the shore - had shrieked frightened and girlish.

Arya took her shawl, put it on the tree stump next to the big tree and sat down, looking at the water. She sat in her own thoughts for a while and looked up in surprise, as the Hound suddenly sat down next to her. She looked questioningly at him, but he just gave a growling sound, and took out a bag containing bread and what seemed to be a wineskin. He gave her both. Hesitantly she took the bread, not really knowing how to react. This was new, and she wasn't sure she liked it. Normally he would keep a distance, only letting her know he was nearby, making her feel safe. She handed the wineskin back to him, but he held up his hand: "It's honeyed goats milk. Good for the baby." Arya mumbled a "thank you" but he didn't seem to notice, or at least didn't want to engage in pleasantries. He took out another wineskin and took a deep swig from it. At her questioning look, he shrugged and said:"Not honeyed goats milk". After that he just sat in silence for a long time, and Arya relaxed, eating some bread and drinking some honeyed milk. She startled as he suddenly spoke: "I admire you for having gone through the hard training to become a Faceless Man. Not many men could do so." She looked at him in disbelief: "How did you..." she had not told anyone about, what had happened since she had left Sandor for dead a few years ago. Sandor shrugged, and kept his eyes on the lake: "I know a Faceless Man, when I see one. It is in the way you do anything really. Move, look at the world, breathe. The way you know when someone follows you... everything really." He turned his head towards her, and saw the chock in her eyes. "Don't worry" he said and patted her hands awkwardly "Sansa has no idea, nor has anyone else. And no one will hear it from me. Nobody's business as far as I am concerned." With that he looked at the water again, taking another swig of the wineskin. Arya looked at him for a while. Without knowing why she suddenly said, almost in a whisper: "Valar Morghulis." The Hound didn't stir as he calmly answered "Valar Dohaeris". They sat next to each other in silence for a while. "Jaqen taught me the phrase and gave me a coin that ensured my passage to Braavos. I already trusted him then, but I didn't love him until later. I was the moon of his life." Sandor didn't move for hours, while Arya told the Hound, who had killed so many men himself, and now loved her sister, everything that had happened. The training, the assassinations, the Many Faced God, the punishments, the trivialities, the fighting. And Jaqen. Always Jaqen.

After a long time she was done, and felt tired. And empty. But it was a good empty, she thought. As if the pain had subsided somewhat. She looked at the Hound until he turned his gaze from the lake, and looked at her in the dusk. He still didn't say a word, but Arya had a feeling of peace, that came with being understood. He stood and reached out his hand for her to get up, but her legs gave away under her in pure exhaustion. Before she could say anything, he picked her up and started carrying her home. She started to protest, but he growled something and walked on. Arya felt safe in his huge arms, and closed her eyes in exhaustion. Before long the rocking movements of his steps made her fall asleep.

The Hound carried the little wolf back home. She had always both annoyed him and amused him. And he admired her. But most of all, he loved her sister more than anything – that is until Sansa gave birth to Ned. Now he loved both Sansa and Ned equally. Life with Sansa had given him a feeling of what family was, and he worshipped his beautiful wife, and all that was her. How different Arya might be, she was still a part of his beautiful Sansa. He had watched his Sansa long for her sister for years, and there was nothing Sandor wanted more, than to see Sansa happy. The return of Arya made her happy.

And Arya, the little wolf, had earned a special place with him, ever since he had taken her hostage so long ago. That was why he had saved her at the Red Wedding. He understood her, he always had. Her rage, her thirst for vengeance. He had even understood, why she had left him for a slow death a few years back. He had watched Arya after she came back. He had immediately recognized his own worst fear, manifesting in Arya. The loss of his Sansa. He saw in Arya exactly how he knew that would look and feel. Arya had lost her equivalent to his Sansa. After hearing about her pregnancy and seeing her regain some of her strength, he had recognized something else in her: the killer. But not the warrior-like killer. He had watched her, until he had been able to place her movements as belonging to a Faceless Man. After that he had guessed most, but he had been wrong about the Jaqen, she cried for in her sleep. He had thought him dead. Sandor felt anger rise up inside of him. If he ever gor his hands on this Jaqen H'gar, he would make him wish, he was dead.

He had known she needed to talk about what had happened, in that regard she was like his Sansa; and although he loved Sansa, she had no way of knowing, why her sister could not confide in her. But he knew. Sansa was still innocent, and Arya was like a mixture of him and Sansa. She could break like Sansa, she could love like Sansa, she needed to talk just like Sansa, but she was a killer like himself. And he would never be able to tell Sansa about the darker side of his life. Contrary to the little wolf, he felt no need to do so.

When Sandor returned with a sleeping Arya, the love of his life came running fidgeting towards him. She chirped scolding at him, for having her worried, and kissed him for his gentleness towards her sister. Sansa knew gentleness did not come easy to the Hound, except for when dealing with her or their son. He carried Arya up to bed and Sansa tucked her in. As soon as she was outside of Arya's room, she started asking him, if Arya had talked, if he knew more about this Jaqen, if Arya was still as sad as always. Sandor stopped her chirping with a lingering kiss:"My pretty little bird, chirping her pretty little songs. I have done, what I can for your sister out of love for you. Out of respect for her, I will say no more about it". Sansa started to protest, but at the same time a guard came rushing towards them: "Someone is approaching Winterfell. A single rider". Sansa frowned at the odd time for a single rider to approach Winterfell, and Sandor was already halfway to his horse.

The Hound rode towards the single rider, who seemed to be in a hurry to get to Winterfell. As he neared he drew his sword. Like he had told the little wolf, he knew a Faceless Man, when he saw one. He could only assume this one was sent for him, for some of the many things he had done in his life. The Faceless Man stopped his horse, and Sandor brought Stranger to a halt in front of him, hand gripping his sword tightly: "What leads a Faceless Man to Winterfell?" Sandor growled, his face with the burns looking more frightening than ever in the near-darkness.

The man recognised the burned face from stories about the Hound, and knowing Sansa Stark had married the Hound he smiled a half-smile, bowing his head politely: "You are mistaken Sandor Clegane. I am no Faceless Man".

Sandor spit on the ground: "The hell you aren't!"

The man continued as if nothing had been said or done:"I left the Faceless Men. My name is Jaqen H'gar and I seek Arya Stark of Winterfell."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Sandor heard the man state his name and sneered. Jaqen H'gar had hurt Arya. Arya being hurt led to his little bird feeling hurt, an no one hurt his little bird! He raised his sword and drove Stranger forwards.

Jaqen held up his sword in protection. It would do no good to kill Arya's brother-in-law, he thought, but he just wanted this over with. He could see Winterfell, and he knew, that was where he could find Arya. He had left everything he believed in, to be with her, and he would not let the Hound stop him. For a fraction of a second, he remembered how she had asked him not to leave her years ago. At that time it had been the most difficult thing he had ever done, to ignore her plea and leave. It had also been a mistake, that he would not repeat. Jaqen swung his sword upwards in another protective blow, as Sandor kept attacking him. He could hear Sandor growl at him: "You should not have come here, Jaqen H'gar. And you should not have hurt the little wolf."

Both men were surprised with the equality of the fight. Sandor and his horse being huge and Jaqen and his horse being fast. Both men had extraordinary strength.

Between blows Jaqen shouted at the Hound: "You are mistaken Clegane, she was misled to think I had abandoned her."

"Nothing mistaken about that, dead man" Sandor hissed, while Jaqen averted another deathly blow. "I have forsaken my vows" Jaqen yelled "I have turned my back on everything I am, to be with her. Just let me see her, and I will leave if she wishes me to" Jaqen threw down his sword and held up his hands. Sandor pulled hard on the reins making Stranger balk. He could not kill a man who had thrown down his sword. The two men looked at each other, panting. Sandor with rage flaring in his eyes, Jaqen the picture of calm. He didn't feel calm though. He wanted to run the short distance to Winterfell and scream her name, until he once again felt her safe in his arms.

"All right then" Sandor growled, his burned face twitching in anger "but you hurt her, and I will kill you". Jaqen nodded; "you can try" he thought, and followed Sandor to Winterfell.

Once inside the gates they dismounted their horses and entered the castle. Jaqen saw a breathtakingly beautiful red-headed woman coming towards them, and he watched as the Hound's face changed, as he lay his huge arm protectively around the woman. "Sansa" he said "this is Jaqen H'gar. He seeks Arya"

Sansa stood frozen for a second, looking at the handsome man in front of her, his read hair with the intriguing white streak, his beautiful face and the eyes that seemed to be dark pools of pain and urgency. She reminded herself of her position, straightened her back and smiled courteously at him, as she offered him her hand: "Ser H'gar" she smiled, and ignored Sandor as he sneered: "He is no Ser!" "I am pleased to meet you" she continued "I am afraid Arya is asleep,but I think under these special circumstances it would be all right for you to go to her anyway. I must warn you however, that my dear sister is in a fragile state, and should not be upset. Can I trust your intentions, and that you wish her no harm?" she asked, but had a feeling, that it would take more than an army to stop this man from running to Arya's side. She saw something in his eyes, that she recognized from Sandor.

Jaqen bowed and caught her eyes with his "You can trust me never to have wanted any harm to come to your sister, Lady Stark. Please, it is urgent that I see her." Jaqen's voice was filled with despair, and he had to fight every nerve in his body, not to run through the castle in search of his lovely girl. Sansa nodded and turned, motioning for him to follow her. Sandor followed close behind him, hand on his sword.

Sansa opened the door to Arya's room silently and stepped inside, followed by Jaqen and Sandor. Jaqen stopped abruptly and all colour drained from his face, as he saw his lovely girl lying in the big bed. She looked so pale and small. She had lost weight and her skin looked almost transparent against her dark hair. He forgot about the others and rushed to her side, placing a hand gently on her cheek, whispering her name in a voice, that made him sound as if he had lost his soul: "Arya. Lovely girl" Sansa looked down, ashamed to witness such a personal and tender moment, and Sandor shifted uncomfortably behind her.

Arya's eyes fluttered a bit before she slowly opened them and tried to focus on the man holding her cheek. Her eyes widened in shock as she looked at him, letting her hand come up to rest on his, on her cheek: "Jaqen" she whimpered and threw herself at him. He held her tight and buried his face in her hair, kissing her forehead, her neck, her cheeks, her mouth". She was in his arms; he couldn't believe it. Nothing else mattered. Then she drew back and hit him, hard and thorough.

Arya had felt Jaqen's touch against her cheek in the gracious space between dream and reality. She thought she could catch his scent and didn't want to wake up. She heard him say her name, and call her lovely girl, and she longed for it not to be a dream. She opened her eyes and tried to focus on the man caressing her cheek, and then she was caught in his eyes. Her Jaqen. He was here, he was touching her, looking at her, talking to her. She threw her arms around him and felt his lips on her hair, on her cheeks. She smiled against his mouth as he kissed her, and for a second she lost herself in the complete happiness, to feel him. "This must be a dream," she thought,"he left and sent me away. He didn't want to see me. He didn't even tell me himself, he just left" hurt and anger welled up in her chest. She clenched her fist, drew back and clocked him, with all she had in her. She heard the Hound chuckle somewhere: "Good one, little wolf". Then she looked at Jaqen, and started beating at his chest.

Jaqen was taken aback as she hit him, but as she started to hit her little fists against his chest, he took a hold of her wrists and cradled her to him, while talking to her: "Shhh my lovely girl, I never left you, you must believe me, you must hear me. They tricked both of us, to tear us apart." Her fighting lessened as she lost her sudden burst of strength, and tears started rolling down her cheeks, as he cupped her face and trailed kisses all over it, while he continued: "I left, Arya, my lovely girl, I left the guild, when I heard, what they had done. I am so sorry, it is all my fault, I should have taken us away before. I thought, I had lost you, and without you, there is nothing. You are my everything, my lovely girl, and I am no longer no one. I haven't been for a while. I am yours." Neither of them noticed Sansa shoving the Hound out of the room in front of her, and closing the door silently, leaving them to one another. Arya started sobbing and Jaqen held her tight, while he explained what had happened, how he had found out, and how he had left. As Arya's crying stilled off, he just held her to his chest. She was so thin, and his inside was a storm of emotions. Love for her, fear for her, anger towards the guild, for having done this to his lovely girl. She was so thin and fragile now. He wondered how this radical change could take place in a relatively short time. He held her a little back, and kissed her. His lovely girl, she was in his arms, and he was the happiest man alive.

Arya's head had been spinning with anger, love, relief and fear, as she ponded on Jaqen's chest. But through it all, she heard his voice, and little by little his words sank in. He hadn't left her. They had been tricked. He had returned and thought she had left him. She started sobbing into his embrace, as she listened to him, his words a solace to her soul. And then he kissed her. She buried her hands in his hair and kissed him back, their tongues entwining, her heart beating so fast and loud, she thought all of Westeros could hear it.

Jaqen kissed her, as if she was the air he had been denied for too long. He felt her hands roam over him and take a firm grip of his tunic, as she clung to him, like she was drowning. He kissed her neck and felt her shiver, all the while mumbling incoherent declarations of love. He roamed his hands over her body, feeling her nipples against his palms, through the thin fabric of her nightgown, and he started to trail kisses down her neck, shoving her nightgown away, kissing his way to her nipples, hearing her sigh and repeat his name. The sound of her voice, saying his name, a sound he had feared, he would never hear again, almost drove him mad, as they both frantically pushed clothes aside, trying to be as near one another as possible. As he entered her, he felt, as if he had finally come home, and they desperately build up a pace relieving all the hurt, fear and anger they had felt, erasing anything from their awareness, but the feel of the other. Arya held on to him, as if her life depended on it, drawing his face up to hers, pressing her lips against his frantically, while her hips moved upwards faster and faster to meet every thrust, until she moaned her love into his mouth, while they tumbled over the edge.

Jaqen placed his forehead on hers, and looked her in the eyes, with a glance radiating all his love, while he smiled and panted for air, coming down. She looked at his handsome face, and with a pang of hurt remembered, how she had thought, she would never see him again. She reached up to touch his white streak, and kissed him lightly: "I thought, I had lost you" she said, the words almost getting stuck in her throat. "And I you" he replied, and kissed her sweet mouth, swollen from frantic kissing. He closed his eyes, to hide the pain he felt, at the memory of loosing her.

Arya caressed his cheek: "Jaqen, there is something I must tell you" she said.

Jaqen looked down at her, distress clear in his face, as he heard her voice shaking with insecurity. He saw a look in her face, he couldn't read and felt a twitch of fear. Perhaps she didn't want him after all that had happened. Perhaps it had been more than her love could bear. He looked at her, trying to urge her to go on. She bit her lip, suddenly afraid of how he would react. He had given up everything he believed in, to come be with her, and now this. What if he didn't want it as much as she did.

"My lovely girl" he said, nervously slipping back to a way of speaking that had become his over many years, "a man has finally come home to his lovely girl, a man will do anything to earn the love of his lovely girl again. If she needs time, he will give it to her" She looked at him confused. Did he think, she didn't love him any more? "You misunderstand Jaqen, that's not it. I..." she trailed of and took a deep breath to compose herself, before looking into his loving eyes: "I am pregnant."

Jaqen froze, as he tried to understand her words. Pregnant. His lovely girl. Carrying his child. His child. He had never thought about having children. He had never thought he could be this happy. He felt as if something inside of him had been stretched too long and too painful for too many years, and at her words it snapped. He kissed her tenderly, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt tears running down his face.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N I am sorry for the irregular updates. Exams are upon me, but I promise to try and update more regularly. Thank you for your reviews, they feed me and the story. Reviews are love. **

**The dialogue in the end of this chapter, in Jaqen's dream, is not mine. It is from GoT 2x05, I only borrow it and interpret Jaqen's feelings. **

Arya woke the next morning to find Jaqen holding her in his embrace and looking down on her. He looked just like he used to. Calm and somewhat superior, with that crooked half-smile, as if he was looking down on her and the entire world; as if the world amused him, while he was above it. She smiled. She had missed that look, and she knew, it was the look he had perfected for years, to hide any emotion he felt. She tilted her face up and kissed him, and felt his lips smile against hers. She felt safe and warm... and sick.

Arya threw her upper body over the side of the bed, catching the bedpan and threw up. Jaqen held her body with one arm, while he smoothed her hair away with the other and whispered words of comfort. Aria gasped for breath while her body shook, and Jaqen held her, until she quieted down. Then he placed her back on the bed and tucked the blankets and furs around her. He kissed her forehead, where sweat had made damp hair cling in curls, and started to get dressed. Arya let him fuss over her and asked him, where he was going. "A man will find some food for his lovely girl, for she is far to weak for her own and the baby's health". Arya smiled as she felt bubbles of joy flutter about inside of her. Here in Winterfell, far away from the guild, she suddenly liked the way he called her _a lovely girl_ and himself _a man_. She liked the way he talked. It was no longer proof of distance, but essentially it was part of him. The way he talked had intrigued her, when she first met him. Had made her curious. His way of talking, his alluring eyes, his soft voice. She giggled. Long before she knew what love was, she had had a girl-crush on him. Now that she was no longer a child, she loved him.

Arya flushed, as it dawned on her the rest of Winterfell must be aware, that they had spend the night together. She bit her lip and instinctively her hands went to her stomach. Immediately Jaqen was beside her on the bed, stroking her hair, looking worried. "Lovely girl, are you in pain?" Arya found, that she could all of a sudden not look him in the eyes, and started getting annoyed with herself. This was not her. She did not care, what others thought or knew about her and Jaqen. On the other hand she was back at Winterfell now, and there were rules of conduct that should be followed. Rules she had dismissed when she was still a child, but now... They were so few Starks left, and she had to honour the family name and responsibilities. She looked at Jaqen and felt sick again. Once again he held her, while she retched. After helping her settling down again, he walked out in search for breakfast.

Sansa looked up as she heard someone clear their throat. "Ser H'gar" she greeted him, silently unsure how to address the man, who had obviously just spend a night with her sister. How ad he managed to sneak up on her without a sound? He gave her something that looked like a half smile, as if she amused him, and bowed his head slightly: "Please Lady Stark, this man is known as Jaqen H'gar, and "Jaqen" will suffice, when you honour me with your words". Sansa couldn't help but smile at his foreign courtesies and stretched out her hands towards him: "I think, under the circumstances it would be proper for you to call me Sansa as well" she said, as he took her hands. "I know you are the father of Arya's child" she continued. Jaqen smiled, but didn't release her hands, as he took a step towards her, bringing them quite close to one another. "Thank you, Sansa" he said in a low and pleasant voice: "A man had hoped you would find time to talk to him about your sister's condition. A man worries... I worry about her condition" he said, squeezing her hands slightly. Sansa glanced over his shoulder, as she heard footsteps approaching, and smiled at her husband, who was holding their son in his arms – she felt a little uncomfortable with the proximity to the foreign man. But it was the proximity, and the way he had struggled to call himself "I" that contradicted his cool and smug demeanour. She had no doubt, this man loved her sister and was worried sick for her well being.

Sandor saw the annoying man, Jaqen H'gar, holding his little birds hands and standing way to close to her. It took all the self-control, he had, not to walk up and rip her from his hands. Instead he walked to stand next to his wife and fixed him with a stare. The man looked far to smug for Sandor's liking: "Have you not already been to close to one Stark sister" he growled, and heard Sansa gasp at his rude remark. Jaqen straightened and smiled a smug smile at Sandor, who noticed he didn't let go of the little birds hands. "A man is sorry to have offended his host" he said calmly, before letting go of Sansa's hands so slowly, that it was clear, he made a point. "A man was just asking you wife, if she would talk to him about the lovely girls condition. A man is worried the lovely girl might be feeling worse, than her condition merits."

Sansa looked at Jaqen with intrigue: "a lovely girl" she thought, "he calls her _a lovely girl_, just like Sandor calls me his _little bird_". Sansa felt warm feelings growing for the handsome man, who obviously loved her sister dearly. She just wished Sandor would see this as well.

Sandor snorted: "And who is to blame for the little wolfs condition?" Jaqen's face didn't show any sign of feelings, other than the steady smugness, as he gave a little nod and answered: "A man knows his responsibilities, but a man also knows the customs of Westeros. Since my lovely girl's parents and her older brother are no longer" he bowed in respect towards Sansa "and her eldest sibling is Lady Sansa.." "Lady Clegane!" Sandor interrupted with a snarl, taking a step towards Jaqen as he handed the baby to Sansa, stepping between her and Jaqen.

Jaqen bowed his head, but the gesture didn't seem sincere, as he glanced up at Sandor with a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Since her eldest sibling is Lady Clegane" Jaqen corrected himself "in accordance to your customs, I would ask you, her husband, for your blessing in exchanging wows with my lovl.. with Arya. To make her my wife and have our child be born in wedlock"

Sansa couldn't help giggle as she saw Sandor's dumbfounded look. She knew what this meant to him. Her marriage to him had not been looked upon as appropriate, and all though he would never admit it, she knew it pained him, that she had married him all though the world seemed to find him unworthy of her. Sansa didn't care, but she knew Sandor did. Jaqen had just acknowledged him as the head of the family.

Sandor looked from Jaqen to Sansa and back several times, before Sansa took his hand, squeezed it and gave him a small nod of approval. Sandor then nodded brusquely at Jaqen and mumbled: "You better ask the little wolf. I don't think she will take kindly to others deciding who she is to marry, but you have my permission" Sandor looked uncomfortable as he spoke the last part, and then he added: "it's the right thing to do. You should marry her... her condition and all".

Jaqen nodded a thanks, but Sansa had a feeling it would not really had mattered, if Sandor had given his approval or not, this Jaqen H'gar would marry her sister no matter what they said. She appreciated the gesture though.

"About her condition" Jaqen addressed Sansa "has she been feeling this ill since she came here?" Sansa thought she saw a glimpse of fear in Jaqen's eyes. "Actually" she said "she was far worse when she arrived". Sansa gestured for Jaqen to sit and told him calmly and gently how Arya had arrived, and how the days had passed until he came to Winterfell.

Jaqen kept his expression the way he had schooled it for years, while Arya's sister talked, it was such an integrated habit, he didn't even think about it any more. However he felt his insides freeze into a hard ball of ice, as she explained how ill his lovely girl had been. As she told him how the Hound had cared for the lovely girl, he felt ashamed and grateful, even jealous – not romantically jealous, but jealous that this man had comforted his lovely girl. He should have been there. He should have taken care of her. He should have taken her away from the guild long before all of this happened. He should have cherished his lovely girl above anything else. Jaqen loathed himself, but on the outside, he asked questions about his lovely girl, as if none of the information hurt him. He asked for a maester to be called, and Sansa agreed. Then he asked for food, he could bring to his lovely girl, and Sansa walked him to the castle's kitchen, where he picked the best food to bring her.

Arya had been resting while Jaqen was away. She sat up as he entered her room with a tray filled with food, and she wrinkled her nose at it. "I really don't think, I can eat anything right now" she said, as he lifted her to the other side of the bed, scooting in next to her. "My lovely girl must do as she feels like" he said and kissed her "but a man will need some food". He settled in next to her and started telling her about his assignment, followed by questions about Winterfell, it's buildings, its surroundings, Sansa, Sandor and her brothers. While they were talking he would eat a few bites of food, and every now and then he would hold a very small piece of bread, fruit or meat up to Arya's mouth, and she would eat it absent-mindedly, while she talked, until she had finished most of the food.

"My lovely girl should rest now" Jaqen told her "and perhaps later she will go for a walk with me. A man has serious matters to discuss with his lovely girl." He kissed the tip of her nose.

"What matters?" Arya asked. "Rest first" Jaqen answered and tried to tuck her in, but Arya shoved his hands away. "Don't treat me like a child, Jaqen" She made her way out of bed and stood in front of him. "What matters?"

Jaqen smiled and took her in his arms, bowed his head down and let his tongue slide across her lips until she opened her mouth to him, so he could deepen their kiss. He had meant it to be a short and teasing kiss, but as soon as he felt her tongue against his, and heard her moan in pleasure, he lost control of the situation and pulled her closer, while he started to kiss her neck and shoulders. Arya let her head fall back, as she pressed her body against him. She could feel he had grown hard, and she pressed against him, trying to relieve some of her own tension. She felt the wetness between her thighs and wanted him to touch her.

Jaqen buried his face at her neck. He took a hold of her dark hair and brought it to his face, where he inhaled her scent. Se smelled of Arya, his lovely girl. He felt her pressing her body against him, grinding her woman's place against his cock and he reached his hand through the laces in front of her night gown to cup her breast. He felt her hands gliding over his torso as she suddenly pushed him back and looked at him: "What matters?" She asked with a stern look, panting and still pressing her loins against him. He tried to catch her mouth while he whispered: "Matters of love, lovely girl, matters of love". He caught her bottom lip and bit down, until she hissed. He pushed her to the bed and eased her down on it, following her, kissing every part of her body he could reach while peeling her nightgown of inch by inch. Arya felt her entire body burning with desire for his touch and reached down to undo his breeches. She pushed him until he understood what she wanted and rolled over, to let her straddle him. She pushed down his breeches and tugged at his tunic until he lifted his upper body, letting her lift the tunic over his head. She started grinding against him, her wetness soaking his cock letting it slide against her sensitive spot. He tried to grip her hips, to still her so he could enter her, but every time he was at her entrance, she tilted her hips and let him slide against her until his cock pressed on her spot, making her moan in pleasure. He grew more and more anxious and sat up letting his hands slide around her waist, pressing her against him and catching her nipple in his mouth. Arya bent er legs around his waist, still grinding against him, moaning louder and faster while he let his tongue play with first one nipple, then the other. He took a hold of her hips again and finally managed to enter her. He groaned her name and held her hips in a tight grip, while he thrust in and out of her, her breasts bouncing in front of him and he buried his face between them. He felt his climax build up fast and forcefully, and reached one hand between them to stroke her sensitive spot. Arya almost screamed in pleasure and as he felt er convulsing around him, he bit down gently on her nipple and released himself inside of her.

Still inside of her he rolled over, so he was on top and kept moving slowly in and out of her. Arya tried caching her breath, while he moved inside of her, still hard. She felt her body shiver as he bowed his head and his breath stroked her ear. "Marry me, lovely girl" he whispered "please marry me, my love". Arya turned her head and kissed him. She pressed her lips hard against his and pressed her eyes closed. Still she could feel tears escaping and rolling down her cheeks. "Yes" she whispered through the kiss. She repeated her "yes" as Jaqen picked up the pace, holding his arms around her, pressing her against him, in turn whispering her name and "my lovely girl" over and over.

Later Jaqen started drifting off to sleep with his lovely girl in his arms. Her head rested against his shoulder, and he had one arm around her, holding her close. He lazily turned is head and kissed her dark hair as sleep overtook him.

_Arya was a girl again, and he had sought her out to repay his debt. The lovely girl fascinated him, and he felt an unfamiliar feeling well up inside of him. He wanted to protect the lovely girl, he wanted to keep her safe. He walked towards her: "A girl says nothing.. A girl keeps her mouth closed, no one hears and friends may talk in secret. Yes?" He asked, leaning against the wall. She looked startled but didn't run away, and he smiled at her, not able to hide his admiration. "A boy becomes a girl." She stopped fidgeting and answered: "I was always a girl" annoyance started to show on her face. He could hardly keep himself from laughing: "And I was always aware" he said, "but a girl keeps secrets... it is not for a man to spoil them." "You are one of them now" she said, picking up is helmet and handing it to him: "I should have let you burn." He felt annoyed. Why did she not see, they were doing the same thing. He realized he wanted her to understand him, to like him. He was confused by these feelings, the girl invoked in him. He couldn't hide his annoyance and wouldn't look at her, as he answered: "And you fetch water for one of them now" he forced himself to look at her, and despised himself for the hint of plea in his voice as he continued:"why is this right for you and wrong for me?" He could see she understood, but was to stubborn to admit it. He cherished the lovely girl's stubbornness. "I didn't have a choice" she said, almost out of breath, trying to justify herself. He smiled: "You did.. I did; and here we are." She walked a few steps backwards, as he walked towards her, and he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and comfort her. He felt a pang of pain, as she shied away from him. He reminded himself, he was not supposed to feel anything, that he was no-one, and instead he said: "A man pays his debts. A man owes three." "Three what" the lovely girl asked. "The Red God takes,what is his, lovely girl" he explained, and went on: "and only death may pay for life."_

Jaqen sat up in bed, soaked in sweat, heart pounding. His lovely girl was asleep beside him, all grown into a woman, all his. He cradled her in his arms, careful not to wake her, while he buried his head in her hair, and tried to push away the echo of his own voice, repeating over and over again inside his mind: " only death may pay for life, only death may pay for life, only..."


End file.
